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THE IB- 



POETICAL WORKS 



OF 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. 



WITH A MEMOIK. 



BOSTON: 
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY. 

M.DCCC.LXIV. 






University Press: 

Welch, Bigelow, and Company, 

Cambridge. 



By TmTisfet 
JUN 5 1^^^ 



CONTENTS. 



Pago 

Memoir • xi 

SONGS AIO) SONNETS. 

The Lover for shamefastness hideth his Desire within his 

faithful Heart 1 

The Lover waxeth wiser, and will not die for Afiection . 1 
The abused Lover seeth his Folly and intendeth to trust 

no more 2 

The Lover describeth his being stricken with sight of his 

Love 3 

The wavering Lover willeth, and dreadeth, to move his 

Desire * . . . 3 

The Lover having dreamed enjoying of his Love, com- 

plaineth that the Dream is not either longer or truer . 4 
The Lover unhappy biddeth happy Lovers rejoice in May, 

while he waileth that Month to him most unlucky . 5 

The Lover confesseth him in Love with Phillis . . 6 

Of others' fefgned Sorrow, and the Lover's feigned Mirth 6 

Of change in Mind ........ 7 

How the Lover perisheth in his Delight as the Fly in the Fire 7 

Against his Tongue that failed to utter his Suits . . 8 

Description of the contrarious Passions in a Lover . . 9 
The Lover compareth his State to a Ship in perilous 

Storm tossed on the Sea 9 

Of doubtful Love 10 

The Lover abused renounceth Love 11 

To his Lady, cruel over her yielding Lover ... 11 

How unpossible it is to find quiet in Love ... 12 

Of Love, Fortune, and the Lover's Mind .... 13 

The Lover prayeth his offered Heart to be received . . 13 

The Lover's Life compared to the Alps .... 14 



IV CONTEXTS. 

Charging of his Love as unpiteous and loving other • 15 

The Lover forsaketh his unkind Love .... 15 

The Lover describeth his restless State . . , • 16 

The Lover laments the Death of his Love ... 17 

A renouncing of Love 18 

The Lover despairing to attain unto his Lady*s Grace re- 

linquisheth the pursuit 18 

The deserted Lover consoleth himself with remembrance 

that all Women are by nature fickle .... 19 
That Hope unsatisfied is to the Lover's Heart as a pro- 
longed Death 20 

He prayeth his Lady to be true, for no one can restrain 

a vp-illing Mind 20 

The deserted Lover wisheth that his Rival might experi- 
ence the same Fortune he himself had tasted . • 21 

RONDEAUX. 

Request to Cupid for Revenge of his unkind Love . . 22 

Complaint for true Love unrequited 22 

The Lover sendeth Sighs to move his Suit ... 23 
The Lover seeking for his lost Heart prayeth that it may 

be kindly entreated by whomsoever found ... 24 

He determineth to cease to Love 24 

Of the Folly of loving when the Season of Love is past 25 

The abused Lover resolveth to forget his unkind Mistress 26 
The absent Lover persuadeth himself that his Mistress 

will not have the power to forsake him .... 27 
The recured Lover renounceth his fickle Mistress for her 

Newfangleness 28 

ODES. 

The Lover complaineth the unkindness of his Love . • 29 

The Lover rejoiceth the enjoying of his Love ... 80 
The Lover sheweth how he is forsaken of such as he 

sometime enjoyed 31 

The Lover to his Bed, with describing of his unquiet State 82 

The Lover complaineth that his Love doth not pity him 33 

The Lover complaineth himself forsaken .... 34 

A renouncing of hardly escaped Love .... 36 



CONTENTS. V 

The Lover taught, mistrnsteth Allurements ... 36 
The Lover rejoiceth against Fortune that by hindering 

his suit had happily made him forsake his Folly . . 37 
The Lover's sorrowful State maketh him write sorrowful 

Songs, but such his Love may change the same • . 38 
The Lover sendeth his Complaints and Tears to sue for 

Grace 40 

The Lover's Case cannot be hidden however he dissemble 41 
The Lover prayeth not to be disdained, refused, mistrust- 
ed, nor forsaken ........ 43 

The Lover lamenteth his Estate with suit for Grace . . 44 

The Lover waileth his changed Joys 45 

To his Love that hath given him answer of refusal . . 46 
The Lover describeth his being taken with sight of his 

Love 47 

The Lover excuseth him of Words, wherewith he was 

unjustly charged 48 

The Lover curseth the Time when first he fell in Love . 50 
The Lover determineth to serve faithfully ... 51 

To his unkind Love - . 52 

The Lover complaineth his Estate 63 

Whether Liberty by loss of Life, or Life in Prison and 

thraldom be to be preferred 54 

He ruleth not though he reign over Eealms, that is sub- 
ject to his own Lusts 56 

The faithful Lover giveth to his Mistress his Heart as his 

best and only Treasure 57 

A Description of the Sorrow of true Lovers' parting . 58 

The neglected Lover calleth on his stony hearted Mistress 

to hear him complS-in ere that he die . . . . 59 
He rejoiceth the obtaining the Favour of the Mispress of 

his Heart 60 

The Lover prayeth Venus to conduct him to the desired 

Haven 61 

The Lover praiseth the Beauty of his Lady's Hand . . 62 
That the Eye bewrayeth alway the secret Affections of the 

Heart 64 

The Lover complaineth that Faith may not avail without 

thQ Favour of Fantasy .... 65 



VI CONTENTS. 

That too much Confidence sometimes disappointeth Hope 67 
The Lover bemoaneth his unhappiness that he cannot ob- 
tain Grace, yet cannot cease loving .... 68 
The mournful Lover to his Heart with Complaint that it 

will not break 70 

The Lover renounces his cruel Love for ever ... 71 

A Complaint of his Lady's Cruelty 73 

Of the Contrary Affections of the Lover .... 74 

That right cannot govern Fancy 75 

That true Love availeth not when Fortune list to frown . 76 

The deceived Lover sueth only for Liberty . . . 78 
The Lover calleth on his Lute to help him bemoan his 

hapless Fate 79 

That the Power of Love is such he worketh Impossibilities 81 

That the Life of the unregarded Lover is worse than Death 82 

The Lover who cannot prevail must needs have Patience 83 

When Fortune smiles not, only Patience comforteth . 84 
That Patience alone can heal the Wound inflicted by 

Adversity 85 

The Lover, hopeless of greater Happiness, contenteth him- 
self with only Pity 86 

That Time, Humbleness, and Prayer, can soften every 

thing save his Lady's Heart 87 

That Unkindness hath slain his poor true Heart . . 88 
The dying Lover complaineth that his Mistress regardeth 

not his Sufferings 89 

The careful Lover complaineth, and the happy Lover 

counselleth 90 

The Lover having broken his Bondage, voweth never 

more to be enthralled ....... 91 

The abused Lover admonishes the unwary to beware of 

Love 92 

A Reproof to such as slander Love 93 

Despair counselleth the deserted Lover to end his Woes 

by Death, but Reason bringeth Comfort ... 96 
The Lover's Lute cannot be blamed though it sing of his 

Lady's Unkindness . . . . .• . . 98 
The neglected Lover calleth on his Pen to record the 

ungentle Behaviour of his unkind Mistress . . . 100 



CONTENTS. Vll 

That Cantion should be used in Love .... 101 
An earnest Bequest to his cruel Mistress either to pity 

him or let him die 102 

The abused Lover reproacheth his false Mistress of Dis- 
simulation 103 

He bewails his hard Fate that though beloved of his Mis- 
tress he still lives in pain 104 

A Complaint of the Falseness of Love .... 105 

The Lover sueth that his Service may be accepted . . 106 

Of the Pains and Sorrows caused by Love . . . 107 
The Lover recounteth the variable Fancy of his fickle 

Mistress 108 

The abused Lover bewails the time that ever his Eye 

beheld her to whom he had given his faithful Heart . 110 

An earnest Suit to his unkind Mistress not to forsake him 111 
He remembereth the Promise his Lady once gave him 

of Affection, and comforteth himself with Hope . . 112 

That aU his Joy dependeth on his Lady's Favour . . 113 

He promiseth to remain faithful whatever Fortune betide 115 
The faithful Lover wisheth all Evil may befaU him if he 

forsake his Lady 116 

Of Fortune, Love, and Fantasy 117 

Deserted by his Mstress, he renounceth all Joy for ever 119 

That no Words may express the crafty Trains of Love . 119 

That the Power of Love excuseth the Folly of loving . 121 
The doubtful Lover resolveth to be assured whether he is 

to live in joy or woe 122 

Of the extreme Torment endured by the unhappy Lover 123 

He biddeth farewell to his unkind Mistress . . . 124 

He repenteth that he had ever loved 124 

The Lover beseecheth his Mistress not to forget his stead- 
fast Faith and true Intent 126 

He bewails the Pain he endures when banished from the 

Mistress of his Heart 127 

He compares his Sufferings to those of Tantalus . . 127 
That nothing may assuage his Pain save only his Lady's 

Favour . . , 128 

The Lover prayeth that his long Sufferings may at length 

find Recompense 128 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

He describeth the ceaseless Torments of Love . . . 130 
That the Season of Enjoyment is short, and should not 

pass by neglected . 131 

That the Pain he endured should not make him cease 

from loving 133 

The Complaint of a deserted Lover " 134 

That Faith is dead, and true Love disregarded . . . 136 
The Lover complaineth that his faithful Heart and true 

Meaning had never met with just Reward . . . 137 
The forsaken Lover consoleth himself with remembrance 

of past Happiness 138 

He complaineth to his Heart that having once recovered 

his Freedom he had again become thrall to Love . . 140 

He professeth Indifference 141 

He rejoiceth that he had broken the Snares of Love . . 141 
The Lover prayeth that his Lady's Heart might be in- 
flamed with equal Affection 143 

The disdainful Lady refusing to hear her Lover's Suit, he 

resolveth to forsake her 145 

The absent Lover findeth all his Pains redoubled . . 147 

He seeketh Comfort in Patience 148 

Of the Power of Love over the yielden Lover . . . 148 
He lamenteth that he had ever Cause to doubt his Lady's 

Faith 149 

The recured Lover exulteth in his Freedom, and voweth 

• to remain free until Death 150 

POEMS. 

Wyatt's Complaint upon Love to Reason, with Love's 

Answer 152 

Complaint of the Absence of his Love . . . .157 
The Song of lopas, unfinished 163 

• SONGS AND EPIGRAMS. 

A description of such a one as he would love . . . 168 

Why Love is blind 168 

The Lover blameth his instant Desire .... 169 

Against Hoarders of Money 169 

Description of a Gun 169 



CONTENTS. IX 

Of the Mother that eat her Child at the Siege of Jerusalem 170 

To his Love whom he had kissed against her Will . . 170 
Of the jealous Man that loved the same Woman, and 

espied this other sitting with her 171 

To his Love from whom he had her Gloves . . . 171 
The Lover complaineth that deadly Sickness cannot help 

his Affection 172 

Ofthe feigned Friend 172 

Comparison of Love to a Stream falling from the Alps • 173 

Of his Love that pricked her Finger with a Needle . . 173 

Ofthe same 173 

The Lover that fled Love now follows it with his Harm • 174 

The Lover compareth his Heart to the overcharged Gmi . 174 

How by a Kiss he found both his Life and Death . . 175 

To his Lover to look upon him 175 

Of disappointed Purpose by Negligence .... 175 

Of his Ketum from Spain 176 

Wyatt being in Prison, to Bryan 176 

Of such as had forsaken him 177 

The Lover hopeth of better Chance 177 

.That Pleasure is mixed with every ?ain .... 177 

The Courtier's Life 178 

Of the mean and sure Estate 178 

The Lover suspected of Change prayeth that it be not 

believed against him 179 

Of dissembling Words 179 

Of sudden trusting 180 

The Lady to Answer directly with Yea or Nay . . 180 

Answer 181 

The Lover professeth himself constant .... 181 
The Lover blameth his Love for renting of the Letter he 

sent her 182 

The Lover complaineth and his Lady comforteth . . 182 

The Lover suspected blameth ill Tongues . . . 184 

Of his Love called Anna , . 184 

A Riddle of a Gift given by a Lady 185 

That speaking or proffering brings alway speeding • 185 

T. Wyatt of Love 186 



CONTENTS. 



SATIRES. 



Of the mean and sure Estate, written to John Poms . • 187 

Of the Courtier's Life, written to John Poins . . • 191 
How to use the Court and himself therein, written to Sir 

Francis Brian 194 

ft 

PENITENTIAL PSALMS. 

The Prologue of the Author ...... 203 

Domine, ne in furore 206 

The Author 210 

Beati, quorum remisse sunt Iniquitates . • . • 211 
The Author . . . . . . . . .214 

Domine, ne in furore tuo 215 

The Author 218 

Miserere mei, Deus 219 

The Author 222 

Domine, exaudi Orationem meam • • • • . 223 

The Author 227 

De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine • 228 

The Author 229 

Domine, Orationem meam 231 

No emulari in maligna 233 

An Epitaph of Sir Thomas Gravener, Knight • • • 237 



Sir Antonie Sentleger of Sir T. Wyatt 



MEMOIR OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 



His life for aye, of Fame the tmmp shall sound: 
Though he be dead, yet lives he here alive, 
Thus can no death from Wyatt hfe deprive. 

St. Leigeb. 

Sir Thomas Wyatt, the contemporary and 
friend of the Earl of Surrey, was descended from 
a family of some antiquity, which was settled for 
several generations at Southange in Yorkshire. 
His father Sir Henry Wyatt was a Privy Coun- 
cillor to Henry the Seventh, whose favour he 
gained in consequence of his adherence to the house 
of Tudor during the reign of Richard the Third, by 
which monarch he was imprisoned in the Tower,* 
and, unless his son was misinformed, he was racked 
in the usurper's presence.! He purchased the 
castle and estate of Allington near Maidstone in 
Kentj which became his principal residence. As 

♦ A tradiMonal story is told, that whilst in the Tower a cat 
brought him a pigeon every day from a neighbouring dove-cot, 
which supply saved him from starvation. 

f See Sir Thomas Wyatt' s letter to his son. 



Xll MEMOIR OF 

one of the King's executors he was brought conspic- 
uously to the notice of his successor, at whose coro- 
nation he was made a Knight of the Bath, and at the 
battle of Spurs his valour was rewarded by the 
honor of Kjiight Banneret: he was Treasurer of 
the King's Chamber in 1525, and filled many other 
important offices. By his wife Anne, daughter ©f 
Jolm Skinner, of Reigate in Surrey, Sir Henry left 
three children, Thomas the Poet, Henry who lived 
in a private manner in Kent, and Margaret the wife 
of Sir Anthony Lee. 

Thomas Wyatt, the eldest son, was bom at Al- 
ii ngton in 1503, and the next circumstance relating 
to him which is known is that in 1515 he was en- 
tered of St. John's College, Cambridge, where he 
took his B. A. degree in 1518, and in 1520, his 
Master's degree. Probably soon after quitting Cam- 
bridge, Wyatt passed a short time at Paris in con- 
formity with the- custom of the age, but whether, as 
Wood asserts, he visited Italy, is shown by Dr. Nott 
to be very doubtful. About 1520 he married Eliza- 
beth, daughter of Thomas Brooke, Lord Cobham ; 
and it appears from Hall's account of a feat of arms 
which was performed at Greenwich at Christmas, 
1525, that he was one of the fourteen challengers on 
tliat occasion. 

For nearly ten years after that time no informa- 
tion has been found- about him, and the next time he 
is mentioned is at the coronation of Anne Boleyn 
in July, 1533, when he officiated as Ewerer for his 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Xlll 

father. In that long interval he may be presumed 
to have served in the army,* and to have employed 
his leisure hours in hterary pursuits ; but great part 
of his time was undoubtedly passed at court, where 
his personal appearance, no less than his talents and 
accompHshments, attracted Henry's attention, and 
gained his favour. If Lloyd be correct, he exercised 
the influence wliich he possessed over his sovereign's 
mind in promoting the interests of his friends rather 
than his own, and this generous zeal on behalf of 
others secured him the esteem of all who knew him. 
But though the merits of Wyatt obtained for him 
a brilliant reputation, they nearly proved the source 
of a heavy misfortune. An attachment has been 
supposed to have existed between him and Anne 
Boleyn, though there is little other authority for the 
idea than a poem in which he speaks of his mistress 
by the name of Anna, and uses some expressions 
which have been tortured into an allusion to the 
Queen. Whether an opinion prevailed of this 
nature when her capricious husband's affections 
were withdrawn from her, or to speak more cor- 
rectly, when his passion for her person was satiated, 
or whether Wyatt's attractive quahties rendered 
hun an eligible individual upon whom to fix the 

* Leland speaks of his martial fame, and in the Dedication 
of the Penitential Psalms by Sir John Harington it is said that 
he was renowned " for his valiant deeds in martial feats as well 
as for his singular learning." See page 202. 



XIV MEMOIR OF 

charge of a criminal correspondence, cannot be de- 
termined, but it is certain that he was accused of 
being her paramour. It would be tiresome and 
profitless to follow Dr. Nott in his speculations on 
the sentiments which he supposes Anne Bolejn 
and Wyatt to have entertained for each other. A 
similarity of taste may naturally have rendered his 
society agreeable to the Queen ; and it is not extra- 
ordinaiy that in a crowd of foppish and unlettered 
courtiers, his presence was acceptable to her. That 
the verses which Dr. Nott cites as being addressed 
to her long before she became the object of Henry's 
desire, do not justify that interpretation, may be 
safely asserted; for there is not the slightest evi- 
dence to show when they were written, or that he 
was ever enamoured of her. Nor must it be for- 
gotten that at the very moment when he is supposed 
to deplore his fate in losing her, in consequence of 
the King's intentions, he was himself a married man. 
The same reasons which refute the opinion that 
Surrey was seriously attached to Geraldine apply 
to Wyatt's imaginary affection for Anne Boleyn ; 
and if it be conceded that he really alluded to her 
in the poem adverted to, the conclusion seems in- 
evitable that she was the subject of a fictitious, or, 
if the expression be allowed, a poetical passion. 
Her rank, which was superior to that of Wyatt, if 
not her virtue, makes it impossible to believe that 
he contemplated an illicit connection, and his own 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. XV 

marriage proves that he could not have sought her 
hand. If, as has been conjectured,* the two lines, 

" And now I follow the coals that be quent 
From Dover to Calais against my mind,'* 

mean that he formed one of her retinue when, as 
Marchioness of Pembroke, she accompanied Henry 
to Calais, in 1532, it is singular that his name should 
not occur among the many persons who are noticed 
in the account of the expenses of that voyage. Two 
sonnets have been particularly cited to substantiate 
the opinion that he was attached to Anne Boleyn. 
One t of these is that in which he says, that though 
May was generally propitious to love, misfortunes 
had often befallen him in that month, and after 
adding that this had been predicted at his nativity, 
he thus concludes : — 

" In May my wealth, and eke my wits I say 
Have stond so oft in such perplexity." 

As Anne Boleyn was tried and executed in May, 
and as it was attempted to implicate Wyatt in the 
misconduct of which she was accused, these lines 
have been presumed to refer to that circumstance. 
The other Sonnet is that in which he says,J 

" Who list her hunt, 1 put him out of doubt 
As well as I, may spend his time in vain ! 
And graven with diamonds in letters plain. 
There is written her fair neck round about: 
* Noli me tangere ; for Caesar's I am, 
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.' '* 

• Nott, p. xxiii. t See p. 5. J See p. 18. 



XVI MEMOIR OF 

The first of these passages may be supposed with 
equal, if not greater probability, to refer to some 
other circumstance rather than to the accusation 
that he had been criminally connected with the 
Queen, for not merely were " his wealth and wits " 
brought into " perplexity, but his life itself was then 
endangered;" and admitting that the other sonnet 
did allude to her, it by no means establishes the 
existence of tenderness or regret that she was 
another's : on the contrary, it speaks of her con- 
nection with the King in a tone of levity which 
cannot be reconciled with the feeHngs of a lover. 

Those who believe in an attachment, whether pla- 
tonic or otherwise, between Wyatt and Anne Boleyn, 
trace an alteration in his poetry to the effect which 
her fate produced on his mind. It is easy to sup- 
port a favorite theory, and the task is an ungracious 
ona to destroy those tales which impart a romantic 
interest to eminent personages ; but there is no 
proof whatever of the period when the alteration in 
his pieces took place, or to show that it did not arise 
from those great sedatives to a poetical or amorous 
imagination — years and experience. 

The suspicion which Wyatt incurred, with respect 
to Anne Boleyn, soon passed away ; and it is said 
that on Easter Day, 16th April, 1536, he received 
the honor of Knighthood, though, as will afterwards 
appear, there is ground for assigning that distinction 
to the following year. Very soon afterwards, how- 
ever, he fell under Henry's displeasure, and was 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XVU 

committed to the tower, but the precise nature of 
his offence has not been ascertained, and all which 
is known about it is that it arose from a personal 
quarrel with the Duke of Suffolk. His confinement 
was short ; and soon after his liberation he was ap- 
pointed to a command in the army, with which the 
Duke of Norfolk was about to subdue a rebellion in 
Lincolnshire. The rebels were, however, dispersed 
before he joined the Duke ; and in the ensuing year 
he was Sheriff of Kent, an office which he says was 
indicative of the King's special confidence.* 

It has been considered that in 1587 Wyatt was 
appointed Henry's ambassador to the Emperor, but 
if the date of his Knighthood be correct, his in- 
structions must have been issued before April, 1536, 
as he is therein called an " Esquire." The purport 
of his mission, which is fully explained in that docu- 
ment, was to remove the animosity the Emperor had 
entertained against Henry, in consequence of his 
having divorced Katherine of Arragon, and to pre- 
vent his annoying him with the claims of the Prin- 
cess Mary.f Wyatt's despatches whilst on this 
mission are not preserved, but from the letters 
which were addressed to him by Cromwell, the 
Lord Privy Seal, it appears that his conduct gave 
great satisfaction to his sovereign.^ Those letters 

* See his defence appended to this Memoir. 
t These instructions and the other State Papers relating to 
Wyatt's Embassies were printed by Dr. Nott. 
X The first of these letters, all of which are printed by Nott, is 

B 



Xvill MEMOIR OF 

refer chiefly to official business connected with his 
embassy, but a few passages relating to Wyatt per- 
sonally may be selected from them. On the 8th 
July, 1537, Cromwell told him : — 

" For all the haste I would not omit to advertise 
you, that some, your servants here, be called and 
named common stealers of the King's hawks. I 
would ye should give them warning that they shall 
leave such pranks, and that ye will be no main- 
tainer of such unlawful fellows of light disposition ; 
and write unto them earnestly." 

On the 10th of October he* was informed by 
Cromwell : — 

" And as for your diet and post money, I shall see 
you shall have them paid according to your warrant : 
and in the rest of your aifairs I shall be such a 
friend unto you, if need require, as your enemies, if 
you have any, shall win little at your hands in your 
absence. Your brother Anthony,* he hath been in 
the porter's lodge for consenting to the stealing of 
certain of the King's hawks : and your sister suing 
for his deliverance, hath been here with me at 
Mortlake ; they be both merry : and the King's 
Highness is now again good Lord unto him." 

Either from habitual negligence, or from being 



dated 29th June, 1537. As it was addressed to " Sir Thomas 
W3^at, Knight," it may be inferred that he was knighted im- 
msdiately before he left England instead of in April, 1536. 

* Apparently Sir Anthony Lee, his brother-in-law , the husband 
of his sister Margaret. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XIX 

suddenly sent on his embassy, Wyatt left his private 
affairs in considerable disorder ; and Cromwell thus 
alluded to the circumstance : — 

" For your part I would have you in nowise to 
desire any such matter ; * it would be taken in evil 
part, and yet you shall never therein obtain your 
purpose. Mistrust not but you shall have as much 
favour as I may extend unto you. And indeed 
you had need of friendship ; for I have not seen 
a wise man leave his things so rawly, as yours be 
left." 

A passage in Cromwell's letter of the 8th April, 
1538, announcing an increase to his allowance, tends 
to show that his friends were not very zealous in 
promoting his interests : — 

"Your agents here, if you have any, be very 
slack to call upon any man for you. Your brother 
Hawtef was not thrice here since you went; and 
the rest I hear nothing of, unless it be when nothing 
is to be done. I never saw man that had so many 
friends here, leave so few perfect friends behind him. 
Quicken them with your letters ; and in the mean 
season as I have been, so shall I be both your friend 
and your sohcitor." 



* Charging the King interest on his allowance. 

t Sir Thomas Wyatt' s son married Jane, daughter and co- 
heiress of Sir William Hawte, who was the individual alluded 
to, it being then common to apply the word "brother" or 
"sister," to persons whose children had married. 



XX MEMOIR OF 

Dr. Nott says, Wyatt went to England early in 
the spring of 1538, at the request of the Emperor, 
to communicate his sentiments more fully to Henry, 
than he could do by writing, and that he returned to 
Spain before the end of March. This may be true ; 
but as the indorsements of Lord CromwelFs letters 
prove that he was at Barcelona in January and 
March, and as no allusion to the circumstance 
occurs in the correspondence, it is very doubtful. 

Sir Thomas continued accredited to the Emperor 
for some months ; and in May, 1538, Bonner, after- 
wards Bishop of London, and Dr. Haynes were 
joined with him in his mission; but their arrival 
tended rather to embarrass than promote the King's 
aflPairs. The Emperor and the King of France had 
an interview with the Pope at Nice early in June, 
1538, to which place Sir Thomas also proceeded. 
At the desire of the Emperor he set off post for 
England to obtain Henry's instructions, upon some 
important point, but being delayed on his arrival, he 
could not return to Nice within the fifteen days pre- 
scribed by the Emperor, whom he followed to Mar- 
seilles, and thence to Barcelona, where he was re-^ 
joined by his colleagues Bonner and Haynes. As 
he is styled for the first time " Gentleman of the 
King's Chamber," in May, 1538, it may be inferred 
that he was not appointed to the office until about 
that time. There is so much of personal matter in 
a letter from him to Lord Cromwell, written at 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XXI 

Toledo in January, 1539, that it will be inserted at 
length : — 

" Please it your Lordship for this time to accept 
short letters, remitting the same to the letters of the 
King more largely written. I thank your Lordship 
for the giving order for my money which I lent Mr. 
Bryan.* If the King's honour, more than his credit, 
had not been before mine eyes, he should have piped 
in an ivy leaf for aught of me. I report me to Mr. 
Thirlby, Loveday, and Sherington. I humbly thank 
you also for your advices of news. By our Lord it 
is a notable grace that the King hath ever had, the 
discovery of conspiration against him. I cannot tell, 
but that God claimeth to be principal, whether he 
cause more to allow his fortune, or his minister's. I 
would I could persuade these preachers as well to 
preach his grave proceeding against the Sacramen- 
taries and Anabaptists (as your Lordship writeth) 
as they do the burning of the Bishop's bones. But 
of that, nor of other news, on my faith, I have 
no letters from no man but from you. 

" I cannot tell whether it be that men are more 



* Lord Cromwell, in a letter dated 28 Nov. 1538, informed 
him that, " Concerning the two hundred pounds, which ye lent 
to Sir Francis Brian, whosoever owed them I have disbursed 
them, and paid to Mr. Bonvixi. Other men make, in manner of 
their debts mine own ; for very oft where they have borrowed 
I am fained to pay." 



XXU MEMOIR OF 

scrupulous in writing than negligent to do their 
friends pleasure. Here are already news of the 
condemnation of the Marquis of Montagu, of his 
brother, of Sir Edward Nevill, and of three servants ; 
but of the particularities I hear nothing. I have had 
it told me by some here of reputation, that peradven- 
ture I was had in suspect both with the King and 
you, as they said it was told them ; but like as I 
take it light, so I ascribe it to such invention as 
some of my good friends would be glad to have it. 

" I shall not let for all that to solicit at your Lord- 
sliip's hands my coming home, and there let me, red- 
dere rationem. But out of game, I beseech your 
Lordship humbly to help me. I need no long per- 
suasions. You know what case I am in. I have 
written this unto you. I am at the wall ; I am not 
able to endure to march, and the rest shall all be 
the King's dishonour and my shame ; besides the 
going to nought of all my particular things. Have 
some consideration between them that feign excuses 

for such with and him that endeth frankly his 

service to his Majesty. I can no more but remit me 
wholly to your Lordship ; and if it be not sufficient 
that ye know of the strait I am in, inform yourself 
of Mr. Vane and Mr. Poynings. And thus after 
my most humble recommendations, our Lord send 
you good life and long. . 

"At Toledo the 2d of January, [1538-9,] Don 
Diego told me [he] had obtained license for two 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. XXUl 

genets for you, and that he would deliver them to 
me to send them. I trust to bring them myself to 
see them better ordered." 

Towards the end of 1538, Wyatt became earnest 
in his solicitations to be recalled, bemg impelled by 
the state of his finances, as his allowance fell very 
short of his expenses, and still more, by his appre- 
hension that Bomier, with whom he had not lived on 
cordial terms, and who had preceded him to Eng- 
land, might poison Henry's mind against him. On 
the 19th of January, 1539, Cromwell informed him 
that the King insisted upon his remaining until 
April, and desired him to state what money he re- 
quired, as he would assist him ; but he accompanied 
this promise with a reproach which shows that in 
pecuniary affairs Wyatt was generous to a fault : — 

" I advise you toHtake patiently your abode there 
until April, and to send me word what money ye 
shall need to have sent unto you, for I shall help 
you. Assuring you that I could not see you that 
went, and hath abided there honestly furnished, to 
return home, and at the latter end return needy and 
disfurnished. I do better tender the King's honour, 
and do esteem you better than so to suffer you 
to lack. Advising you, nevertheless, that I think 
your gentle frank heart doth much impoverish 
you. When you have money, you are content 
to depart with it and lend it, as you did lately 
two hundred ducats to Mr. Hobby, the which I 



XXIV MEMOIR OF 

think had no need of them ; for he had large fur- 
nishment of money at his departure hence, and hke- 
wise at his return. We accustom not to send men 
disprovided so far. Take heed, therefore, how you 
depart of such portion as ye need. And foresee 
rather to be provided yourself, than for the promotion 
of other to leave yourself naked. PoUtic charity 
proceedeth not that way. If you shall advertise me 
what sums ye shall need, I shall take a way that ye 
shall be furnished." 

At the dissolution of the monasteries, he requested 
a grant of the Friary of Alresford, which Cromwell 
obtamed for him, and in conveying that intelligence, 
in February, 1539, he added, "I will be glad in all 
other things to employ myseh' to further your rea- 
sonable desires." Agreeably to Lord Cromwell's 
promise, Wyatt was superseded in April, but he did 
not arrive in England until the end of June, or begin- 
ning of July. It would seem from one of Crom- 
well's letters on the subject of his return, that he 
met with a gratifying reception from the King ; and 
as soon as he was permitted, he hastened to his own 
home, but he was not long allowed to enjoy the 
pleasures of domestic life. 

Towards the end of the same year, the Emperor 
proceeded through France into the Low Countries, 
and as Henry was anxious to watch his conduct, 
Wyatt was selected for the purpose. He was ac- 
cordmgly reappointed Ambassador to the Emperor, 
and arrived at Paris in the middle of November. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XXV 

After a short sojourn lie proceeded to Blois, where 
he found the French monarch, of whom he knmedi- 
ately obtained an interview, the particulars of which 
are described in a long despatch, dated on the 2nd 
of December, 1539.* Sir Thomas quitted Blois the 
next day, and joined the Emperor at Chateaureault 
on the 10th. The letters which he wrote to the 
King, describing what occurred at the various audi- 
ences with that monarch, contain nothing which throws 
any other Hght on Wjatt's character, than that they 
estabhsh his clairns to sagacity and ability : they are 
written with great clearness, and are more interest- 
ing than most letters of a political nature. From 
Chateaureault he attended the Emperor to Paris, 
and thence to Brussels, from which place he wrote 
Cromwell on the 22nd January, 1540. From that 
letter it seems that he was tu^ed of his situation, and 
had been urgent for his recall: he complained in 
strong terms of the heavy expenses which he in- 
curred, but added, that he derived consolation from 
learning that his services were acceptable to the 
King. He says: — 

" I am sorry that I have troubled your Lordship 
with touching my request for my revocation, seeing 
so small appearance of the attaining the same. I 
meant not even now in all my last, but that the way 
might by your Lordship have been framed against 
the expu*ation of my four months,, to be ended at the 

♦ Printed by Dr. Nott, p. 350-355. 



XXVI ME3I0IR OF 

9th or 10th of March, for the which I have received. 
And here I think it not unmeet to advertise your 
Lordship what comfort I find at my coming for the 
disease I have long had. First, my house rent 
standeth me after the rate little lack of one hundred 
pounds by the year, without stabling ; besides, the 
least fire I make to warm my shirt by stands me a 
groat. In my diet money I lose in the value eight 
shillings and eight pence every day, for that the 
angel is here but worth six shillings and fourpence ; 
a barrel of beer that in England were worth twenty 
pence, it costs me here with the excise four shillings ; 
a bushel of oats is worth two shillings ; and other 
things be not unlike the rate. I beseech your Lord- 
ship take not this that I am so eager upon the King 
that I would augment my diet, for it is so honoura- 
ble it were not honest to desire it, but for because I 
would another should have it. That your Lord- 
ship writeth the King's Highness to take in so good 
part my doings, I pray God, it may proceed of my 
merits as well as that doth upon his goodness ; for if 
in the while that I would abide in this place my 
deeds might deserve any thing, would God my re- 
vocation and his Grace's continuance of favour might 
be my reward." 

In his letter to Cromwell, of the 9th February, he 
gave the following account of his pecuniary affairs ; 
and concluded by again pressing, as the greatest 
possible favour, that he might be recalled : — 

" I must beseech your Lordship to move unto the 



SIR THO]tfAS WYATT. XXVU 

King's Highness for me this one suit. Among 
my many other great debts, I owe his Grace five 
hundred marks for my livery,* which I could not 
get out till my last being in England ; and I must 
pay it by forty pounds yearly. I owe him beside 
two hundred and fifty marks of old debt, which in 
all maketh five hundred pounds. If his Grace will 
so much be my good Lord, as to let me take out all 
mine obligations and bonds, and take good surety in 
recognizance for the said five hundred pounds, after 
fifty pounds a year, truly to be paid, I would trust so 
a Kttle and a little to creep out of debt, with selling 
of a Uttle land more. If not, on my faith, I see no 
remedy. I owe my brother Lee as much, beside 
other infinite that make me weary to think on 
them. I have written to Sir Thomas Poynings to 
know your Lordship's answer in this : and also most 
humbly to thank you for your goodness toward me, 
touching that he moved you for me of the Lordship 
of Ditton, that is John Lee's. But surely I am not 
able to buy it, unless the King's great liberality 
shewed unto me in this case ; and yet the thing is so 
necessary for me, as that that lieth in the midst of 
my land, and Avithin a mile of my house. I remit 
me wholly to your good Lordship, in whom is my 
only trust next to the King's Majesty. But above 
any of all these things I recommend unto your Lord- 
ship the good remembrance when time shall be of 

♦ PeiTTiission to inherit his father's lands. 



XXVin ME3I0IR OF 

mj revocation ; and I am always your bond bedes- 
man, as our Lord knoweth, who send you good 
life and long. At Brussels, this Shrove Tuesday. 
[1540.]" 

The Emperor's court having removed to Ghent, 
W} att followed, and was there in March and April, 
1540 ; but the letters which he addressed to Henry, 
or Lord Cromwell, contain no other allusion to his 
private concerns than repeated requests to be allowed 
to return. This was granted him towards the end 
of April; but the arrival of the Duke of Cleves 
at Ghent delayed his departure until about the 
middle of May, when he arrived in England, and 
was received by Henry with flattering marks of 
approbation. 

Within a few weeks Wyatt's constant friend, 
Cromwell, incurred the King's displeasure, and when 
his fate seemed no longer doubtful, Sir Thomas 
anticipated that Bonner, who w^as then Bishop of 
London, and his other enemies would avail them- 
selves of the fall of the favourite, to renew their 
attempts against him. Nor was he deceived ; for 
in consequence of the bishop's representations, he 
was arrested and sent to the Tower, either late in 
1540, or early in 1541, on the charges of holding 
a treasonable correspondence with Cardinal Pole, 
and of having treated the King with disrespect 
whilst Ambassador to the Emperor in 1538 and 
1539. Upon the somewhat questionable authority 
of the beautiful lines which he addressed to Sir 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XXIX 

Francis Bryan from the Tower,* he is supposed to 
have been treated with extreme rigour whilst in con- 
finement; for the account which he there gives of 
his suflPerings has been taken in the most literal 
sense, without an allowance being made for the ex- 
aggeration which is permitted to a poetical descrip- 
tion. After being some time in the Tower, he was 
ordered by the Privy Council to state what had 
occurred during his residence at the Emperor's court, 
which could possibly give offence. To this command 
he replied by the letter which will be found at the 
end of this Memoir ; and on being shortly after- 
wards indicted and brought to trial, he delivered 
the defence which has contributed almost as much 
as liis Poems to his celebrity. As it is too long to 
be introduced into this sketch of his life, it is ap- 
pended thereto, and cannot fail to be read with in- 
terest. After artfully working upon the feelings of 
the jury, by urging the injury he sustained in not 
being allowed counsel, he proceeded to refute Bon- 
ner's charges, and then retorted upon his accuser in 
a strain of satire that places his talents in the most 
favourable point of view. His defence produced 
his acquittal, and as early as July in the same year, 
the King granted him some lands at Lambeth, as 
if to mark his conviction of his innocence. Henry 
followed up this act of favour in the next year, 
by appointing him High Steward of the Manor of 

* See page 176. 



XXX MEMOIR OF 

IMaidstone, and giving him estates in Dorsetshire 
and Somersetshire, in exchange for other of less 
value in Kent. 

It was evidently to the narrow escape which Wyatt 
experienced on this occasion that his friend, the Earl 
of Surrey, alludes in one of his poems on Sir 
Thomas's death, in which he ascribes the mahgnity 
his enemies exhibited, to their being envious of his 
merits : — 

*' Some, that in presence of thy livelihed 
Lurked, whose breasts envy with hate had swoln.'* 

" Some, that watched with the murderer's knife, 
"With eager thirst to drink tliy guiltless blood, 
Whose practice brake by happy end of life. 
With envious tears to hear thy fame so good." 

" But I," the Earl adds, 

" knew what harbour'd in that head; 

What virtues rare were temper' d in that breast." * 

Wyatt retired to his seat at AUington soon after 
this afl&iir, and there can be little doubt that it was 
at this time he wrote the satires, addressed to his 
friend, John Pointz, in which he draws so pleasing 
a picture of the advantages of retirement over the 
dangers of a public hfe. Many lines of those pieces 
may be received as a faithful description of his own 
feelings ; and he points out the security and happi- 
ness of his home, with similar sensations to those 
of the mariner, who finds himself safely anchored in 

• Surrey's Poems, page 60. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XXXI 

Lis destined port, after a tempestuous and dangerous 
voyage. In this production he confesses that his 
love of fame had seduced him from a more philo- 
sophic estimate of life, 

*' I grant, sometime of Glory that the fire 
Doth touch my heart." 

He then mentions the various base qualifications 
necessary for a courtier, and admits his deficiency 
therein : — 

" My Poins, I camiot frame my tune to feign, 
To cloak the truth, for praise without desert. 
Of them that list all vice for to retain. 
I cannot honour them that set their part 
With Venus, and Bacchus, all their life long; 
Kor hold my peace of them, although I smart. 
I cannot crouch nor kneel to such a wrong ; 
To worship them like God on earth alone. 
That are as wolves these sely lambs among. 
I cannot with my words complain and moan, 
And sufier nought ; nor smart without complaint : 
Nor turn the word that from my mouth is gone. 
I cannot speak and look like as a saint ; 
Use vnles for wit, and make deceit a pleasure ; 
Call craft counsel, for lucre still to paint. 
I cannot wrest the l?,w to fill the coflfer." 

After proceeding in a similar strain for some time, 
he thus concludes : — 

" This is the cause that I could never yet 
Hang on their sleeves that weigh, as thou mayst see, 
A chip of chance more than a pound of wit: 
This maketh me at home to hunt and hawk ; 
And in foul weather at my book to sit; 
In frost and snow, then with my bow to stalk ; 
Ko man doth mark whereso I ride or go : 



XXXU MEMOIR OF 

In lusty leas at liberty I walk ; 

And of these news I feel nor weal nor woe : " 

** Nor I am not, where truth is given in prey 
For money, poison, and treason ; of some 
A common practice, used night and day. 
But I am here in Kent and Christendom, 
Among the Muses, where I read and rhyme ; 
Where if thou list, mine own John Poins, to come, 
Thou shalt be judge how I do spend my time." 

In this peaceable and happy manner Wyatt passed 
the winter of 1541, and the spring and summer of 
1542 ; and during this period he composed the seven 
penitential psalms, an employment indicative of the 
serious nature of his thoughts, rather than, as Dr. 
Nott has imagined, of remorse or even regret for his 
previous career. Part of his leisure was also given 
to the care and education of his nephew, Henry Lee ; 
and he bestowed much of his time in improving his 
mansion and estate of Allington. Leland says, that 
about this period Sir Thomas commanded one of 
the ships of Henry's navy, but the statement is not 
corroborated by any other writer. 

On the arrival of ambassadors from the Emperor, 
in the autumn of 1542, the King commanded Wyatt 
to meet them at Falmouth, and conduct them to 
London ; but the execution of this mandate cost him 
his life. The weather was extremely unfavourable 
for travelling, and having overheated himself by 
his journey, he was seized with a fever at Sher- 
borne. Horsey, one of his intimate friends, who 
lived in the neighbourhood of that town, hastened 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. yxxih 

to his aid, but his kindness proved unavaihng. After 
lingering a few days under a mahgnant fever, his 
constitution gave way, and he expired on the 10th 
or 11th of October, 1542, in his thirty-ninth year. 
Horsey performed the last offices of friendship, by 
closing Wyatt's eyes, and attending his remains to 
their final resting-place, in the family vault of the 
Horsey family, in the great church of Sherborne, 
but no inscription marks the spot where he was 
interred. 

Few men ever possessed a more imblemished 
reputation, or died more sincerely regretted and 
esteemed than Sir^homas TVyatt. His talents and 
accomplishments, great as they undoubtedly were, 
yielded even to the higher qualities of frankness, 
integrity, and honour, in obtaining him the appro- 
bation and love of his contemporaries ; and to judge 
from the numerous elegies by which minds of kindred 
excellence sought to commemorate his worth, Wyatt 
possessed the advantage of being appreciated by 
those whose praise is fame. His poems sufficiently 
attest the variety and scope of his abilities ; and, 
like those of his friend Surrey, they are free from 
the slightest impurity of thought or expression. 
He spoke several languages, and was so richly 
stored with classical literature, that the erudite 
Camden says he was "splendide doctus." His 
prose is forcible and clear, and occasionally ani- 
mated and eloquent. He excelled on the lute, and 
was eminent for his conversational powers ; but all 

c 



XXXIV MEMOIR OF 

these merits were exceeded by the agreeable quali- 
ties of his private character. In person Wyatt was 
eminently handsome. Tall, and of a commanding 
presence, elegantly formed, and gifted with a coun- 
tenance of manly beauty. 

Dr. Nott has collected many of Wyatt's witti- 
cisms, or rather " sayings," which will be introduced 
in that learned person's own words : — 

" One day as the king was conversing with Wyatt 
on the suppression of monasteries, he expressed his 
apprehension on the subject, saying, he foresaw it 
would excite general alarm should the crown resume 
to itself such extensive possessioiis as those belong- 
ing to the church. ' True, Sire,' replied Wyatt ; 
* but what if the rook's nest were buttered ? ' Henry 
understood the force and application of the proverb, 
and is said from that moment to have formed the 
design of making the nobility a party in the transac- 
tion, by giving to them a portion of the church lands. 

" At a still earlier period of the business, Henry, 
who passionately desired the divorce, had expressed 
some scruples about urging it from the opposition 
raised by the Pope. Wyatt, who witnessed the 
King's perplexity, is said to have exclaimed in his 
hearing ; ' Heavens ! that a man cannot repent him 
of his sins without the Pope's leave.' This speech, 
as was designed, sunk deep into the King's mind ; 
and disposed him the more readily to adopt the 
measure proposed by Cranmer of consulting the 
universities. 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. XXXV 

" Connected with the progress of the Reformation 
was the downfall of Wolsey. That powerful favour- 
ite had gained so strong a hold in the affections of 
the King his master, that his ruin was not effected 
but by slow degrees, and that too by a union of all 
the ancient nobility of the kingdom, with the Duke 
of Norfolk at their head. Wyatt was deemed of 
sufficient importance to be ranked as one of their 
party, and is said to have contributed in a great 
degree to their success. For, coming one day into 
the King's presence, when he happened to be angry 
with the Cardinal, and spoke of him in terms of dis- 
pleasure, Wyatt immediately laid hold of the occasion 
to tell a humorous story of some curs baiting a 
butcher's dog, which we are told 'contained the 
whole method of Wolsey's ruin.' " * 

" When the King once urged him to dance at one 
of those splendid midnight masks with which he so 
often indulged the court, Wyatt with great modesty 
excused himself; and when Henry pressed him for 
his reason, he replied, ' Sir ! he who would be 
thought a wise man in the daytime, must not play 
the fool at night.'" 

On hearing a person jesting on matters of a seri- 
ous nature, he is reported to have reproved him by 
saying, " It does not become Christians to do so. If 
the Athenians would not permit a comedian to ex- 

* As this must have occurred before Wyatt was nineteen, its 
truth may perhaps be doubted, since it is nowhere shown that 
he was then about the court. 



XXXVl MEMOIR OF 

hibit his farces on the scene where Euripides had 
acted his grave and solemn tragedies, much less 
ought we to suffer the levity of a joke to come as it 
were into the presence of things holy and religious.'' 

"One day as Wyatt* was conversing with the 
King he said playfully to him ; ' Sir, I have at last 
found out a benefice that must needs make me a 
rich man, for it would give me a hundred pounds a 
year more than I could want. I beseech your 
Majesty bestow it on me.' ' Ha ! ' quoth the King, 
' we knew not that w^e had any such in our king- 
dom ! ' ' Yes, in good faith. Sir, ' replied Wyatt, ' there 
is one such ! The Provostship of Eton ! There 
a man hath his diet, his lodging, his horse meat, his 
servants' wages, and riding charges, and a hundred 
pounds a year beside.' 

" It was one of his common sayings, * Let my 
friend bring me into court ; but let my merit and 
my service keep me there.' In a jest he was used 
to say three things should be observed. ' Never to 
play upon any man's unhappiness or deformity, for 



* Leland has preserved a circumstance respecting Wyatt, 
which, as it is descriptive of his turn of mind, deserves here to 
be repeated. He states that Wyatt's favourite ring, with which 
he always sealed his letters, was a beautiful antique gem, with 
Julius Caesar's head on an agate, that Wyatt's predilection for 
it arose from his admiration of Caesar's character; and that he 
used it that the memory of so great a man, being constantly 
present to his mind, he might himself be stimulated to generous 
exertion, and do something worthy of eternal record. — See 
Leland s Ncenia^ v. 172. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XXXVU 

that is inhuman ; nor on superiors, for that is saucy 
and undutiful ; nor on holy matters, for that is irre- 
ligious/ " 

Leland asserts that Wyatt cherished three friends 
more particularly than the rest, namely, Poynings 
for the generosity of his disposition, Blaze for his 
wit, and Mason for his learning^; but his writings 
and other circumstances show that the Earl of 
Surrey, Sir Francis Bryan, and John Poins, or 
Poyntz, were specially favoured.* with his regard. 
Lloyd says " there were four things for which men 
went to dine with Sir Thomas Wyatt, First, his 
generous entertainment ; secondly, his free and 
knowing discourse of Spain and Germany, an in- 
sight into whose interests was his masterpiece, they 
having been studied by him for his own satisfaction 
as well as for the exigency of the times; thirdly, his 
quickness in observing, his civility in entertainmg, 
his dexterity in employing, and his readiness in en- 
couraging every man's peculiar parts and inclina- 
tions ; and lastly, the favour and notice with which 
he was honoured by the King ! " 

By Elizabeth, the daughter of Lord Cobham, who 
survii^d him, and married secondly Sir Edward 
Warner, Sir Thomas Wyatt left an only son, 
Thomas, who must have been born about 1521, as 
he was found of full age in October, 1542. He 
married, at the early age of fifteen, Jane, daughter 
and coheir of Sir William Hawte, of Bourne in Kent ; 
and soon after that time he received the two follow- 



XXXVUl MEMOIR OF 

ing inimitable letters of advice and instruction from 
his father, who was then in Spain, extracts from 
which deserve to be inscribed, in letters of gold, in a 
conspicuous part of every place of instruction for 
youth in the world. 

LETTER I. 

" In as much as now ye are come to some years 
of understanding, and that you should gather within 
yourself some frame of Honesty, I thought that I 
should not lose my labour wholly if now I did some- 
thing advertise you to take the sure foundations and 
stabUshed opinions that leadeth to Honesty. 

'• And here, I call not Honesty that, men com- 
monly call Honesty, as reputation for riches, for 
authority, or some like thing; but that Honesty, 
that I dare well say your grandfather, (whose soul 
Grod pardon,) had rather left to me than all the lands 
he did leave me ; that was, TTisdom, Gentleness, 
Soberness, desire to do Grood, Friendliness to get 
the love of many, and Truth abo\ e all the rest. A 
great part to have all these things is to desire to 
have them. And although glory and honest name 
are not the very ends wherefore these things <are to 
be followed, yet surely they must needs follow them 
as light foUoweth fire, though it were kindled for 
warmth. 

"Out of these things the chiefest and infaUible 
ground is the dread and reverence of Gk)d, where- 
upon shall ensue the eschewing of the contraries of 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. XXXIX 

these said virtues ; that is to say, ignorance, unkird- 
ness, rashness, desire of harm, unquiet enmity, 
hatred, many and crafty falsehood, the very root of 
all shame and dishonesty. I say, the only dread 
and reverence of God, that seeth all things, is the 
defence of the creeping in of all these miscliiefs into 
you. And for my part, although I do well say there 
is no man that would his son better than I, yet on 
my faith I had rather have you Hfeless, than subject 
to these vices. 

" Think and imagine always that you are in presence 
of some honest man that you know; as Sir John 
Russell, your Father-in-law, your Uncle Parson, or 
some other such, and ye shall, if at any time you 
find a pleasure in naughty touches, remember what 
shame it were afore these men to do naughtily. 
And sure this imagination shall cause you remem- 
ber, that the pleasure of a naughty deed is soon past, 
and the rebuke, shame, and the note thereof shall 
remain ever. Then, if these things ye take for vain 
imaginations, yet remember that it is certain, and no 
imagination, that ye are alway in the presence and 
sight of God : and though you see him not, so much 
is the reverence the more to be had for that He 
seeth, and is not seen. 

" Men punish with shame as greatest punishment 
on earth, yea ! greater than death ; but His punish- 
ment is, first, the withdrawing of his favour, and 
grace, and in leaving his hand to rule the stern to 
let the ship run without guide to its own destruct- 



Xl MEMOIR OF 

tion ; and suffereth so the man that he forsaketh to 
run headlong as subject to all mishaps, and at last 
with shameful end to everlasting shame and death. 
Ye may see continual examples both of the one sort, 
and of the other ; and the better, if ye mark them well 
that yourself are come of; and consider well your 
good grandfather, what things there were in him, 
and his end. And they that knew him noted him 
thus ; first, and chiefly to have a great reverence of 
God and good opinion of godly things. Next that, 
there was no man more pitiful ; no man more true 
of his word ; no man faster to his friend ; no man 
diligenter nor more circumspect, which thing, both 
the Kings his masters noted in him greatly. And 
if these things, and specially the grace of God that 
the fear of God alway kept with him, had not been, 
the chances of this troublesome world that he was 
in had long ago overwhelmed him. This preserved 
him in prison from the hands of the tyrant* that 
could find in his heart to see him racked ; from two 
years and more prisonment in Scotland in irons and 
stocks ; from the danger of sudden changes and com- 
motions divers, till that well beloved of many, hated 
of none, in his fair age, and good reputation, godly 
and christianly he went to Him that loved him, for 
that he always had Him in reverence. 

" And of myself, I may be a near example unto 
you of my folly and unthriftness, that hath, as I well 

* Richard the Third. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. xli 

deserved, brought me into a thousand dangers and 
hazards, enmities, hatreds, prisonments, despites, and 
indignations ; but that God hath of his goodness chas- 
tised me, and not cast me clean out of his favour ; 
which thing I can impute to nothing but to the good- 
ness of my good father, that, I dare well say purchased 
with continual request of God Jiis Grace towards me 
more than I regarded, or considered myself; and a 
little part to the small fear that I had of God in the 
most of my rage, and the little delight that I had in 
mischief. You therefore if ye be sure, and have 
God in your sleeve to call you to his grace at last, 
venture hardily by mine example upon naughty un- 
thriftiness, in trust of his goodness ; and besides the * 
shame, I dare lay ten to one ye shall perish in the 
adventure ; for trust me, that my wish or desire of 
God for you shall not stand you in as much effect, 
as I think my father's did for me : we are not all ac- 
cepted of Him. 

" Begin tl\erefore betimes. Make God and good- 
ness your foundations. Make your examples of wise 
and honest men : shoot at that mark : be no mocker : 
mocks follow them that delight therein. He shall be 
sure of shame that feeleth no grief in other men's 
shames. Have your friends in a reverence ; and 
think unkindness to be the greatest offence, and least 
punished amongst men ; but so much the more to be 
dread, for God is justiser upon that alone. 

" Love well, and agree with your wife ; for where 
is noise and debate in the house there is unquiet 



Xlii MEMOIR OF 

dwelling ; and much more, where it is in one bed. 
Frame well yourself to love and rule well and 
honestly your wife as your fellow, and she shall 
love and reverence you as her head. Such as you 
are unto her, such shall she be unto you. Obey 
and reverence your father-in-law, as you would 
me ; and remember that long life followeth them 
that reverence their fathers and elders; and the 
blessing of God, for good agreement between the 
wife and husband, is fruit of many children. 

" Read oft this my letter, and it shall be as though 
I had often written to you ; and think that I have 
herein printed a fatherly affection to you. If I may 
see that I have not lost my pain, mine shall be the 
contentation, and yours the profit ; and, upon con- 
dition that you follow my advertisement, I send you 
God's blessing and mine, and as well to come to 
honesty, as to increase of years." 

LETTER II. 

" I DOUBT not but long ere this time my letters 
are come to you. I remember I wrote to you in 
them, that if you read them often it shall be as 
though I had written often to you. For all that, 
I cannot so content me but still to call upon you 
with my letters. I would not for all that, that if 
any thing be well warned in the other that you 
should leave to remember it because of this new. 
For it is not like with advertisements as it is with 
apparel that with long wearing a man casteth away, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. xliii 

when he hath new. Honest teachings never wear ; 
unless they wear out of his remembrance that should 
keep and follow them, to the shame and hurt of 
himself. Think not also that I have any new or 
change of advertisements to send you; but still it 
is one that I would. I have nothing to cry and 
call upon you for but Honesty, Honesty. It may 
be diversely named, but alway it tendeth to one 
end ; and as I wrote to you last, I mean not that 
Honesty that the common sort ealleth an honest man. 
Trust me, that honest man is as common a name 
as the name of a good fellow; that is to say, a 
drunkard, a tavern haunter, a rioter, a gamer, a 
waster. So are among the common sort all men 
honest men that are not known for manifest naughty 
knaves. 

"Seek not I pray thee, my Son, that Honesty 
which appeareth, and is not indeed. Be well as- 
sured it is no common thing, nor no common man's 
judgment to judge well of Honesty ; nor it is no 
common thing to come by ; but so much it is tlie 
more goodly, for that it is so rare and strange. 

" Follow not therefore the common reputation of 
Honesty. If you will seem honest, be honest; or 
else seem as you are. Seek not the name without 
the thing ; nor let not the name be the only mark 
you shoot at: that will follow though you regard 
it not ; yea ! and the more you regard it, the less. 
I mean not by regard it not, esteem it not ; for well 
I wot honest name is goodly. But he that hunteth 



Xliv MEMOIR OF 

only for that, is like him that had rather seem warm 
than be warm, and edgeth a single coat about with 
a fur. Honest name is to be kept, preserved, and 
defended, and not to employ all a man's wit about 
the study of it ; for that smelleth of a glorious and 
ambitious fool. I say, as I wrote unto you in my 
last letters, get the thing, and the other must of ne- 
cessity follow, as the shadow followeth the thing that 
it is of; and even so much is the very Honesty 
better than the name, as the thing is better than the 
shadow. 

" The coming to this point that I would so fain 
have you have, is to consider a man's own self what 
he is, and wherefore he is ; and herein let him think 
verily that so goodly a work as man is, for whom 
all other things were wrought, was not wrought but 
for goodly things. After a man hath gotten a will 
and desire to them, is first to avoid evil, and learn 
that point alone: 'Never to do that, that within 
yourself you find a certain grudging against.' No 
doubt in any thing you do, if you ask yourself, or 
examine the thing in yourself afore you do it, you 
shall find, if it be evil, a repining against it. My 
Son ! for our Lord's love keep well that repining ; 
suffer it not to be darked and corrupted by naughty 
example, as though any thing were to you excusable 
because other men do the same. That same repin- 
ing, if it did punish as he doth judge, there were no 
such justicer ; and of truth, so doth it punish ; but 
not so apparently. Here however it is no small 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. xlv » 

grief, of a conscience that condemneth itself; but 
be well assured, after this life it is a continual 
gnawing. 

"When there is a custom gotten of avoiding to 
do evil, then cometh a gentle courage. Be content 
to be idle, and to rest without doing any thing. 
Then too had ye need to gather an heap of good 
opinions and to get them perfectly, as it were on 
your fingers' ends. Rest not greatly upon the ap- 
proving of them ; take them as already approved, 
because they were of honest men's leavings. Of 
them of God, there is no question; and it is no 
small help to them, the good opinion of moral phi- 
losophers, among whom I would Seneca [in] your 
study ; and Epictetus, because it is little, to be ever 
in bosom. 

"These things shall lead you to know goodly 
[things] ; which when a man knoweth and taketh 
pleasure in them, he is a beast that followeth not 
them : no, nor he cannot but follow them. But take 
this for conclusion and sum of all ; that if God and 
his Grace be not the foundation, neither can ye 
avoid evil, nor judge weU, nor do any goodly thing. 
Let Him be foundation of all. Will these things ; 
desire them earnestly, and seek them at his hands, 
and knowledge them to come of Him, and question- 
less He will both give you the use and pleasure in 
using them, and also reward you for them that come 
of Him ; so liberal and good is He. 



Xlvi MEMOIR OF 

" I would fain see that my letters might work to 
frame you honest. And think that without that, I 
esteem nothing of you : no ! not that you are my 
son. For I reckon it no small dishonesty to myself 
to have an unhonest taught child : but the fault shall 
not be in me. I shall do the part of a father : and 
if you answer not to that I look for at your hands, I 
shall as well study with that that I shall leave, to 
make such [some] honest man, as you." 

As he is often styled Sir Thomas Wyatt " the 
younger," it seems that he was knighted in his 
father's lifetime ; and, as the companion of Lord 
Surrey, he once shared in a mischievous frolic, 
which caused their imprisonment.* A memoir of 
the younger Wyatt may be found in Dr. Nott's 
edition of his father's works; and all which it is 
necessary to add about him is, that he served with 
distinction under the Earl of Surrey at Boulogne, 
in 1545, who, in one of his letters to the King, thus 
bore testimony to his merits : — 

" I assure your majesty you have framed him to 
such towardness and knowledge in the war, that, 
none other dispraised, your majesty hath not many 
like him within your realm for hardiness, painfulness, 
and circumspection, and natural disposition to the 



war." 



See Memoir of Surrey, p. xxii. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. xlvii 

Having joined in the effort to place Lady Jane 
Grey on the throne, he was condemned, and executed 
for high treason, on the 11th April, 1554. He left 
a numerous family, and his grandson. Sir Francis 
Wyatt, of Bexley in Kent, was living in the reign 
of James the First, and had two sons, Henry and 
Francis. 



Xlviii THE DEFENCE OF 



SIxl THOMAS WYATT'S LETTER TO THE 
PRIVY COUNCIL IN 1541.* 

PLEASE IT YOUR GOOD LORDSHIPS 

TO understand: 

I HAVE knowledge by Mr. Lieutenant that the 
King's pleasure is, and your commandment, that I 
should write and declare such things as have passed 
me whilst I was in the Emperor's court, by word, 
WTitiug, communing, or receiving, with or from any 
man, whereby I know myself to have offended, or 
whereby I might run in suspect of offence ; namely, 
in the time of that Court bemg at Nice, and Villa 
Franca. 

First ; Uke as I take God to record in whom I 
trust to be saved, and whose redemption I forsake if 
wittingly I lie ; so do I humbly in his name beseech 
you all, that in those things that be not fresh in my 
memory no captious advantage be taken of me : pro- 
fessing always that if my self can by any means, or 
your Lordships, or any other, reduce any other 
thing than I shall touch to my remembrance, sin- 
cerely and uncolourably from time to time to declare 
the truth in prison, or out. And for my part I 
declare affirm ingly at all proofs whereby a Christian 
man may be tried, that in my life in crime towards 

♦ See page xix. ante. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. xlix 

the Majesty of the King my master, or any his issue 
in deed, writing, or wish, I never offended. I never 
committed malice or offence, or (as I have presently 
said before you) done a thing wherein my thought 
could accuse my conscience as touching words with 
any the King's enemy, or traitor, in my life. I re- 
member not that ever I spake with any, knowing 
him at that time to be a traitor, or enemy, but to 
Brauncetour at his apprehension in Paris, and to 
Trogmorton at St. Daves, that would have brought 
me a present of wine from Pole : which processes, I 
doubt not but it is well in your Lordship's remem- 
brance. 

I had forgot in this place a light fellow, a gunner, 
that was an Englishman, and came out of Ireland 
with an Irish traitor, called James ; I have forgot 
his other name and doubt in that also. He could 
scarce speak English, and drunken he was ; and on 
a day I rebuked him out of my house ; and he 
sought to advertise me of that James' coming again ; 
but the thing was of no value, and I neglected them. 

And there was also a fool, an Irishman, that was 
lame, maimed in the Emperor's wars; and there 
took him by the name of Rosaroffa, because he ware 
a red rose in his breast : but there was no substance 
of those things. But if they require any further, I 
am ready to say to it ; though it be to none effect. 
Writing I never received none of any there, being 
known a traitor, or being suspect of treason ; or 

D 



1 THE DEFENCE OF 

none afterwards proved a traitor, other than fol- 
loweth. 

Of the Earl of Essex (being then as the King's 
chief Councillor, and after declared a traitor of 
Pagett) a letter, being inclosed within a letter of the 
Earl of Essex, directing another letter with the 
same to Brauncetour. Pate's letters I sent to the 
Earl of Essex, Brauncetour not yet known for a 
traitor. Of Leze, a letter or two, he being in Italy. 
Whereunto I answered him in substance, exhort- 
ing him to come and see Spain, and return into Eng- 
land with me : he then not being suspected of any 
oflPence, to my knowledge. 

Of Brauncetour two or three letters (he being at 
Tour de Himmes in Castille, and I at Barcelona) 
concerning my money of the bank. This was 
twelve months before he was discovered for a trai- 
tor. Other letters or writings, such as above, I 
never remember that any came to my hands, or 
through my hands unopened, but of the Priest that 
was my lord Lyster's chaplain ; which I opened, and 
after brought them the King. 

Communing with any declared or known then to 
me a traitor or rebel, with sending of message, re- 
commendations, advertisements, favourable tokens, 
or writings, or any such matter, let it be proved 
and impute it to me for treason. Nor I say not that, 
for that I have done it so secretly that it cannot be 
proved, but, as God judge me, I am clear of 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. K 

thought, deceiving, I am as clear as sending. God 
knoweth what restless torment it hath been to me 
since my hither coming, to examine myself, perus- 
ing all my deeds to my remembrance, whereby a 
mahcious enemy might take advantage by evil in- 
terpretation. But, as I complained before to your 
Lordships, it had grieved me the suspect I have 
been in, being in Spain, that it was noised that I was 
run away to the Bishop of Kome, had not the King's 
Majesty had so good opinion of me that, as I know, 
at my coming home they were punished that had 
sown that noise on me. 

And further, by examination of Mason ; the which 
thing, with that you name the towns Nice and Villa 
Franca, reneweth the suspect thereof. Whereof 
the substance and truth of that I passed there, to 
my remembrance I shall declare sincerely. 

At the Emperor's arrival at Villa Franca, (which 
is about one mile from Nice, and where is a boat 
for gallies,) to my galley came a servant from the 
Bishop of London that now is, and Dr. Haynes, 
advertising me of their being at Nice. I went with 
my boat without delay to them ; and, to be short, 
I gat them [lodging] at Villa Franca, right over 
against my own, as good as the time and place 
would suffer. For though they were better lodged 
at Nice, yet me-thought that Court being full of 
the Court of Rome, it was scant sure nor convenient, 
nor so meet for our communication. The execution 
thereof needs not here be comprehended : it was 



Hi THE DEFENCE OF 

then advertised of. And besides, I suppose it be 
not the intent of this declaration. I, as God judge 
me like as I was continually imagining, and com- 
passing what way I might do best ser\dce ; so rested 
I not day nor night to hunt out for knowledge of 
those things. I trotted continually up and down 
that hell through heat and stink, from counsellor 
to ambassador, from one friend to another ; but the 
things then were either so secretly handled, or yet 
not in coverture, that I with all mine acquaintance, 
and much less they my colleagues for any policy 
or industry -that I saw them use, could not get any 
knowledge. Me-thought (an Emperor, a French 
King, and Bishop of Rome being so assembled, pre- 
tending an union of all the world, to be treated by 
the hands of my Master's mortal enemy, I being 
present, neither having knowledge of any thing, nor 
thilk advertisement from hence) that I should leave 
no stone unmoved to get some intelligence : although, 
peradventure my colleagues thought that little to 
be their charge, but only to convert the Emperor 
by their learning. 

Upon this it chanced that upon a day there was 
no person at dinner with us but we three, and 
Mason ; and, the servants being from the board, 
(whether they were gone for meat, or whether I 
bade them go down, I remember not,) I rehearsed 
tlie [case], care I had for lack of knowledge, and 
the necessity, and demanded their opinion, ' What 
if Mason should insinuate himself dissembhng with 



SIR TH03IAS WYATT. liii 

Pole, to suck something worthy of knowledge in 
these great matters.' They both thought it good, 
and Mason was content to essay it when he should 
see time and occasion. The certain time how long 
I tarried after, or how long I was there in all, on 
my truth I remember not ; but I think I was not 
there twelve days in all afore any thing done in this 
matter. To my knowledge, my overture for my 
coming to the King was made unto me; wherein 
I had not so much respect to the offers that were 
made, as to the promise and the assurance that both 
the Emperor, Grandrela, and Cavas made me, that 
nothing neither with Bishop or King should be 
treated and concluded till I came again, if I came 
in fifteen or sixteen days, or that the King did send 
resolution upon these affairs. This, me-thought, 
was so gladsome unto me to win to the King, he 
being unbound and at liberty so many days (with 
my posting only and pain in so high matters) that 
all my policy of knowledge, and intelligence was 
clean forgotten with me. . Me-thought I had enough. 
The resolution upon these affairs your Lordships 
knoweth; and the success after sheweth what was 
meant then. The day passed; and [before] my 
return (although I solicited earnestly my despatch) 
the appointment [was] concluded, and these Princes 
departed. 

Touching this device of Mason with Pole, this 
is all that soundeth in any case to my fact. And 
let it be proved that ever by Mason, or any other, 



liv THE DEFENCE OF 

I sent hiTYi word, advertisement, or put word or 
order in his mouth what he should say or do, other 
than I have declared, and let it be imputed treason 
unto me. 

The like unto this I used after at Toledo, where 
I used Mr. Foleman's brother and another merchant 
that had been spoiled to seek means to enter into 
Pole's lodging, and to spy who resorted thither, 
and what they could learn; whereby I discovered 
Brauncetour's treason, not only resorting to Pole, 
but plainly exhorting them to forsake the King and 
follow Pole, whereof I advertised : and by that also 
I knew of Grandvela's being there secretly with 
him ; upon which I got of Grandvela farther knowl- 
edge of Pole's suits and demands. This I did with- 
out consultation, for I had no colleague with me. 
But at Paris about the apprehension of Brauncetour, 
I used Weldon and Sworder, and that with partici- 
pation of both of Mr. Tate and the Bishop of London, 
to be spies over Brauncetour, and to put themselves 
into company, whereby I ever knew where he be- 
came, till the hour came that he was apprehended, 
Weldon being in the chamber with him. Our Lord 
defend these men, that the thing that was both 
meant and done in the King's service, should be 
prejudiced by suspect in this behalf. 

But to return to the matter of Mason. I met 
with the Emperor upon the sea afore Marseilles, 
coming in a boat from Aquas-Mortes, both in hazard 
of the Moors and naughty weather, because I would 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. Iv 

prevent the Emperor and the French Eng's meet- 
ing, which should be at Aquas-Mortes. — But I 
came too late to break any thing. Now had the 
Emperor been at Grenes, and there had Mason gotten 
occasion to enter with Pole ; and he told me that 
he could suck nothing out of him, for that he seemed 
to suspect him. At Venice was I never. Wliilst 
this was done was I yet in England; and Mason 
told me that he had written to me and the Earl of 
Essex what he had done, which letters never came 
to my hands, nor almost a year after to the Earl 
of Essex' hands, as the same Earl told me at my 
coming home : and further told me how honestly 
Mason had declared himself, and how well the King 
took it, and how good lord he was to him. And 
farther declared unto me the chance, that though 
the letters that Mason wrote to him came not yet 
then to his hands, that in searching Mason's papers, 
the minute thereof was found ; and after how the 
letter self came to his hands, adding thereunto these 
words, * They meant at Mason, but they shot at the 
Wyatt.' And I remember well the answer I made 
was, ' They strake at me, but they hurt me not ; 
therefore, I pray God forgive them, but i-be shrew 
their hearts for their meaning.' Mason of this all 
the while never wrote unto me into Spain, but that 
he was detained ^dth a quartan; but I knew by 
Grandvela that he was detained by examination, 
wherein I was suspect ; and further particular I 
could nothing of him. And after as it may appear 



Ivi THE DEFENCE OF 

by my letters, I solicited my coming home for my 
declaration. If these be the matters that may bring 
me into suspect, me seemeth, if I be not blinded by 
mine cause, that the credit that an Ambassador hath, 
or ought to have, might well discharge as great 
stretches as these. If in these matters I have pre- 
sumed to be trusty more than I was trusted, surely 
the zeal of the King's service drove me to it. And 
I have been always of opinion, that the King's 
Majesty either should send for Ambassadors such 
as he trusteth, or trust such as he sendeth. But all 
ye, my good Lords, and masters of the Council, that 
hath, and shall in like case serve the King, for 
Christ's charity weigh in this mine innocence, as 
you would be deemed in your first days, when you 
have [had] charge without experience. For if it 
be not by practice and means that an Ambassador 
should have and come to secrets, a Prince were 
as good send naked letters, and to receive naked 
letters, as to be at charge for residencers. And if 
a man should be driven to be so scrupulous to do 
nothing without warrant, many occasions of good 
service should scape him. 

Touching the Bishop of London and Haynes' 
calumning in this matter, when it shall please your 
Lordships to examine me, I shall sincerely declare 
unto you the malice that hath moved them ; and if 
I might be examiner in my own cause, I know they 
cannot avoid their untruth in denial of their consent 
in this cause of Mason. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ivii 

I beseech you humbly be my good Lords, and 
let not my hfe wear away here,, that might perad- 
venture be better spent in some days deed for the 
King's service. Our Lord put in your hearts to 
do with me as I have deserved toward the King's 
Majesty. 

The King's true, faithful subject 

and servant, and humble orator, 

T. Wyatt. 



Iviii THE DEFENCE OF 

SIR THOMAS WYATT'S DEFENCE, 

AFTER THE INDICTMENT AND EVIDENCE.* 

MY LORDS, 

If it were here the law, as hath been in some 
Commonwealths, that in all accusations the defend- 
ant should have double the time to say and defend, 
that the accusers have in making their accusements ; 
and that the defendant might detain unto him coun- 
sel, as in France, or where the Civil Law is used ; 
then might I well spare some of my leisure to move 
your Lordships' hearts to be favourable unto me ; then 
might I by counsel help my truth, which by mine 
own wit I am not able against such a prepared thing. 
But in as much as that time, that your Lordships 
will favourably give me without interruption, I must 
spend to instruct without help of counsel their con- 
sciences, that must pronounce upon me ; I beseech 
you only (at the reverence of God, whose place in 
judgment you occupy under the King's Majesty, and 
whom, you ought to have, where you are, before 
your eyes) that you be not both my judges and my 
accusers, that is to say, that you aggi-avate not my 
cause unto the quest, but that alone unto their re- 
quests or unto mine, which I suppose to be both igno- 
rant in the law, ye interpret law sincerely. For 

* See page xxix. ante. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. lix 

although it be these men that must pronounce upon 
me : yet I know right well what a small word may, 
of any of your mouths that sit in your place, to these 
men that seeketh light at your hands. This done, 
with your Lordsliips' leaves, I shall convert my tale 
unto those men. 

I say unto you, my good masters and christian 
brethren, that if I might have had such help, as I 
spake of to my Lords before, counsel, and time, I 
doubt not but I should fully have satisfied your con- 
science, and have persuaded you. Nor I mean no 
such time as hath been had for the inventing, for the 
setting forth, for the indictment, for devisement of 
the dilating of the matters by my masters here of the 
King's Majesty's learned counsel ; for it is three 
years that this matter is first begun : but I would 
have wished only so much time, that I might have 
read that they have penned ; and penned too, that 
you might read. But that may not be. Therefore 
I must answer directly to the accusation, which will 
be hard for me to remember. 

The accusation comprehendeth the indictment, 
and all these worshipful men's tales annexed there- 
unto. The length whereof, the cunning whereof, 
made by learned men, weaved in and out to per- 
suade you and trouble me here and there, to seek 
to answer that is in the one afore, and in the other 
behind, may both deceive you and amaze me, if 
God put not in your heads honest wisdom to weigh 
these things as much as it ought to be. So to avoid 



Ix THE DEFENCE OF 

the danger of your forgetting, and my trouble in the 
declaration, it is necessary to gather the whole pro- 
cess into these chief points, and unto them to answer 
directly, whereby ye shall perceive what be the 
principals, and what be the effects which these men 
craftily and wittingly have weaved together, that 
a simple man might hardly try the one from the 
other. Surely, but that I understand mine own 
matter, I should be too much to seek and accumbered 
in it. But, masters, this is more of law than of 
equity, of living than of uprightness, with such in- 
tricate appearances to blind men's conscience ; spe- 
cially in case of man's life, where alway the naked 
truth is the goodliest persuasion. But to purpose. 

Of the points that I am accused of, to my perceiv- 
ing, these be .the two marks whereunto mine ac- 
cusers direct all their shot of eloquence. A deed, 
and a saying. After this sort, in effect, is the deed 
alleged with so long words : ' Wyatt in so great 
trust with the King's Majesty, that he made him his 
ambassador, and for whom his Majesty hath done 
so much, being ambassador hath had intelligence 
with the King's rebel and traitor Pole.' Touching 
the saying, amounteth to this much : ' That same 
Wyatt, being also ambassador, maliciously, falsely, 
and traitorously said. That he feared that the King 
should be cast out of a cart's tail ; and that by God's 
blood, if he were so, he were well served, and he 
would he were so.' The sole apparel of the rest of 
all this process pertaineth to the proofs of the one or 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. Ixi 

other of these two points. But if these two points 
appear unto you to be more than false, maliciously 
invented, craftily disguised, and worse set forth, I 
doubt not, but the rest of their proofs will be but re- 
proofs in every honest man's judgment. But let us 
come to the matter. 

And here I beseech you, if any of you have brought 
with you already my judgment, by reason of such 
tales as ye have heard of me abroad, that ye will 
leave all such determination aside, and only weigh 
the matter as it shall be here apparent unto you. 
And besides that, think, I beseech you, that, if it be 
sufficient for the condemnation of any man to be ac- 
cused only, that then there is no man guiltless. But 
if for condemnation is requisite proof and declaration, 
then take me as yet not condemned, till thoroughly, 
advisedly, and substantially je have heard and 
marked my tale. 

First you must understand that my masters here, 
Serjeant . . . and other of the King's Counsel 
that allege here against me, were never beyond the 
sea with me, that I remember. They never heard 
me say any such words there, never saw me have 
any intelligence with Pole, nor my indicters neither. 
Wherein you must mark, that neither these men 
which talk here unsworn, nor the indictment at large, 
is to be regarded as an evidence. The indicters 
have found that I have done it. K that be true, 
what need your trial ? but if quests fetch their light 
at indictments at large, then is a man condemned 



Ixii THE DEFENCE OF 

unheard: then had my Lord Dacres been found 
guilty ; for he was indicted at large by four or five 
quests; like was his matter avowed, aflSrmed, and 
aggravated by an help of learned men ; but on all 
this the honourable and wise nobihty did not once 
look; they looked at the evidence, in which they 
weighed, I suppose, the mahce of his accusers, the 
unUkelihood of the things hanging together, and 
chiefly of all, the substance of the matter and the 
proofs. 

Who then accused me that ever he heard me, or 
saw me, or knew me to have intelligence with Pole 
by word, writing, or message to or fro? No man. 
Why so? For there is [no] such thing. Why art 
thou brought hither then? It is but a bare con- 
demnation to say, 'If I had not offended, I had 
not been brought liither.' That was their saying 
against Christ, that had nothing to say against him 
else. 

But there is other matter, for proofs hereof 
against me. There is the Right Eeverend Father 
in God the Bishop of London, and Mr. Dr. Haynes 
the King's Chaplain, that depose against me. What 
sayest thou to this Wyatt? These men were be- 
yond the sea with thee, where thou sayest that neither 
the indicters nor we were there : these men of 
learning, of gravity, yea! and Ambassadors with 
thee too. 

To this I say, this word ' Intelligence ' concludeth 
a familiarity or conferring of devices together, which 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixiii 

may be by word, message, or writing, which the law 
forbiddeth to be had with any the King's traitors, 
or rebels, pain of the like. Rehearse the law : de- 
clare, my Lords, I beseech you, the meaning thereof. 
Am I a traitor, because I spake with the King's 
traitor? No, not for that, for I may bid him, 
* Avaunt, traitor : ' or, ' Defy him traitor.' No man 
will take this for treason. But where he is holpen, 
counselled, advertised by my word, there Heth the 
treason, there lieth the treason. In writing it is 
like : in message it is Hke : for I may send him both 
letter and message of challenge, or defiance. But 
in any of these the suspect is dangerous ; therefore 
whosoever would do any of these things, I would 
advise him that it appear well. And yet neither 
God's law, nor man's law, nor no equity condemneth 
a man for suspects : but for such a suspect, such a 
word, or writing, [that] may be so apparent by con- 
jectures, or success of things afterwards, by vehe- 
ment likelihoods, by conferring of things, and such 
like, that it niay be a grievous matter. 

But whereto do I declare this point? it is far 
out of my case : For if I ever spake word to him 
beyond the sea, and yet to my remembrance but 
once on this side ; or if ever I wrote to him, or if I 
ever sent him word or message, I confess the action ; 
let it be imputed to me for treason. I say not of 
word, message, or writing that should be abetting, 
aiding, comforting, or. advertisement ; but any at all, 
but only by his servant Trogmorton, at S. Daves, 



Ixiv THE DEFENCE OF 

in France ; which was in refusal of a present that 
he would have sent me of wine, and of other gear ; 
of which thing I advertised, and it appeareth by my 
letters, the matter how it went ; and there was pres- 
ent Chambers, Knowles, Mantell, Blage, and Mason, 
that heard what pleasant words I cherished him 
with ah 

' Here were a great matter to blear your eyes 
withaV say my accusers, 'if you would believe 
Wyatt, that is not ashamed to lie so manifestly in 
judgment. Didst thou not send Mason unto him at 
Nice? Hast thou not confessed thyself? Hath 
not Mason confessed it? Hath not the Bishop of 
London and Haynes accused thee thereof?' For- 
sooth never a whit. Neither sent I Mason, nor 
have confessed that, nor Mason so confesseth, nor, I 
suppose, neither of my accusers do so allege. Call 
for them, Bonner and Haynes ; their spirituality let- 
teth not them from judgment out of the King's 
Court. Let them be sworn. Their saying is, that 
Mason spake with Pole at Genes. ,Here do not 
they accuse me, they accuse Mason. Call forth 
Mason, swear him. He is defendant, his oath can- 
not be taken. What saith he at the least? He 
saith that Bonner, Haynes, and Wyatt, being all 
three the King's Ambassadors at Villa Franca be- 
sides Nice, that same Wyatt, being in great care for 
intelligence how the matters went there in great 
closeness, being an Emperor, a French King, a 
Bishop of Rome so nigh together, that all these lay 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. IxV 

within four miles treating upon a conclusion of peace 
by the hands and means of the Bishop of Rome, the 
King's mortal enemy; Pole also his traitor being 
there practising against the King, the said Wyatt 
at a dinner devised and asked, ' What if Mason did 
undermine Pole, to look if he could suck out any 
thing of him, that were worth the Eng's knowl- 
edge : ' which then all three thought good, and he 
accepted it, when he should see his time. 

Doth Mason here accuse me, or confesseth, that 
I sent him on a message ? What word gave I unto 
thee, Mason? What message? I defy all famil- 
iarity and friendship betwixt us, say thy worst. My 
accusers themselves are accused in this tale, as well 
as I, if this be treason. Yea, and more : for where- 
as I confess frankly, knowing both my conscience 
and the thing clear of treason : they, belike mistrust- 
ing themselves, deny this. What they mean by 
denying of this : minister interrogatories. Let them 
have such thu"ty-eight as were ministered unto me ; 
and their familiar friends examined in hold, and 
appear as well as I ; and let us see what milk these 
men would yield. Why not ? they are accused as 
well as I. Shall they be privileged, because they 
by subtle craft complained first? where I, knowing 
no hurt in the thing, did not complain likewise? 
But they are two. We are also two. As in spirit- 
ual courts men are wont to purge their fames, let 
us try our fames for our honesties, and we will give 
them odds. And if the thing be earnestly marked, 

E 



Ixvi THE DEFENCE OF 

theirs is negative, ours is affirmative. Our oaths 
ought to be received : theirs in this point cannot. 

I say further, they are not the first openers of this 
matter, whereby they ought to be received. For 
what will they say? Bonner wrote this out of 
France long after he was gone from me out of 
Spain. And Haynes came home, whereas he re- 
mained ambassador in France. But Mason wrote 
this to the late Earl of Essex from Genes, where he 
had spoken with Pole, forthwith upon the speaking 
with him, I being here in England. For afore was 
I come from Villa Franca, sent to the Emperor 
from the King's Majesty in post : for what purpose, 
or what service I did, I know the King's Majesty 
hath esteemed more than I will ascribe unto myself; 
and it should but occupy the time, and instruct you 
little the better in the matter. 

I say then, Mason wrote of this unto the Earl 
of Essex, and unto me also, which letters never 
came to my hands, nor unto the Earl of Essex's 
hands neither, all a year after. And when Mason 
was examined here upon the same afore the Earl of 
Essex, the Duke of Suffolk, and, as I remember, the 
Bishop of Durham (I being in Spain), his papers 
and his things were sought and visited. And where 
Mason alleged these letters sent to the Earl of Essex, 
he sware he never received them ; and in that search 
was found the minute of that same letter. And I 
think Mason no such fool, but in that letter he re- 
hearsed, that upon our consent he went to Pole, and 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixvii 

SO after what he did. Upon this, so apparent, was 
Mason dismissed : and long after came the letters to 
the Earl of Essex's hands. And this did the Earl 
of Essex tell me after my coming home out of Spain ; 
and, as far as I remember, I learned that of Mr. 
Bartlett, which was the Earl's servant, that brought 
the minute with Mason's papers. This I say, for 
that peradventure the letters cannot now be found ; 
yet let him say what he knoweth. So that it is not 
to be believed, that Mason, then not being in doubt 
of any accusation, would have said in his letter that 
he went by the Ambassador's consent, unless it had 
been so indeed. Therefore, I say, if our consents in 
this be treason, then are they in this as far in as I ; 
and their negative requireth proof, and neither oath 
nor denial: and our oaths are to be taken in the 
affirmative, and not theirs in the negative : nor they 
are not to be received as the first openers, for Mason 
wrote it long before them. And they, belike, con- 
demning themselves in taking it to be treason, would 
falsely lay it unto us, that frankly confess it without 
thought of treason. But you may see how their 
falsehood hangeth together. These men tliinketh 
it enough to accuse : and as all these slanderers use 
for a general rule, ' Whom thou lovest not, accuse ; 
for though he heal not the wound, yet the scar shall 
remain.' 

But you will say unto me, What is it to thy dec- 
laration, whether they have offended or no ? Thou 
confessest, that thou consentest to his going to the 



Ixviii THE DEFENCE OF 

King's traitor : how avoidest thou that ? What didst 
thou mean by that, or what authority hadst thou so 
to do? 

This is it, that I would ye should know, good 
masters, as well as God knoweth; and it shall be 
clear enough anon, without suspect, unto you. 

But first, if that suspect should have been well 
and lawfully grounded, before it had come as far as 
accusation; it should have been proved between 
Pole and me kin, acquaintance, familiarity, or else 
accord of opinions, whereby it might appear, that 
my consent to Mason's going to him should be for 
naughty purpose: or else there should have been 
brought forth some success since, some letters, if 
none of mine, at the least of some others, some con- 
fession of some of his adherents that have been ex- 
amined or suffered. 

But what? There is none. Why so? Thou 
shalt as soon find out oil out of a flint stone, as find 
any such thing in me. ^What I meant by it is 
declared unto you. It was little for my avail: it 
was to undermine him ; it was to be a spy over him ; 
it was to learn an enemy's counsel. If it might 
have been, had it been out of purpose, trow you ? 
I answer now, as though it had been done on my 
own head without the counsel of two of the King's 
counsellors, and myself also the third ; there is also 
mine authority. I have received oft thanks from 
the King's Majesty, and his Councils, for things 
that I have gotten by such practices ; as I have in 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixix 

twenty letters, ' use now all your policy, use now all 
your Mends, use now all your dexterity to come to 
knowledge and intelligence.' This, and such like, 
were my policy; and by such means afterwards, 
and setting two to be spies over that same Pole in 
Toledo, when he came in post to the Emperor, 
I discovered the treason of Brauncetor and the 
practices of Pole in the Emperor's court. And I 
dare say the King's Majesty was served by the 
same deed; and how, my Lords of the Council 
know, both by my letters and declaration since I 
have been prisoner. 

But this I shall beseech you to note in this matter, 
that now I speak of; for that I spake before, Hhat 
successes declare suspects.' Before Pole came out 
of Rome to go post to the Emperor, I had so good 
intelligence, that I knew of it and advertised, that 
he should come, wherein I desired to know what 
I should do. I heard nothing. I wrote again, ' He 
is on the sea, or else as far as Genes by land hither- 
ward.' I heard no word again. This was either 
because it was not believed, or else they thought it 
was not like that I should get the knowledge, being 
in Spain. I wrote again, ' He is in Spain ; ' and 
what I had done : for I had laboured before his 
coming importunately, that he should have been 
ordered according to the treaties. I heard yet no 
word. In conclusion, on my own head I did so 
much, that he was neither sent against, being the 
Bishop of Rome's legate, neither received, nor did 



IXX THE DEFENCE OF 

nothing that he came for, nor rewarded, which 
Princes use, nor accompanied out again. And be- 
sides that, I knew and advertised all his doings, and 
sent a copy of his own chief matters. And thus 
was he by my industry dispatched out of Spain 
smally to his reputation or contenting: and the 
answer with the king, afore the letters came to me 
by Francis the courier, [that directed] how I should 
order myself in the business. This I say hath been 
one of the fruits of mine intelligence with Pole ; 
that, as God judge me, this seven year, I suppose, 
came no gladder news unto him than this of my 
trouble ; and on my troth it is no small trouble unto 
me, that he should rejoice in it. 

But to set spies over traitors, it is I think no new 
practice with ambassadors. He of France, that is 
now here, had he not, trow ye, them that knit com- 
pany with Chappuis afore he was delivered here ? 
I myself the last year at Paris appointed Welden, 
and Swerder, two scholars there, to entertain Braun- 
cetor, that by them I might know where he became 
always, for his sudden apprehension. The Bishop 
was made privy unto it ; so was Mr. Totle. And I 
would have had Mason done this, but presently 
afore the Bishop he refused it, alleging that he * 
had once swerved from him in such a like matter. 
I had no warrant for all this gear, no more had the 
Bishop in this that I know of, other than of the au- 

* The Bishop. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixxi 

thority and trust that an ambassador hath and ought 
to have. 

Besides this, ye bring in now, that I should have 
this intelligence with Pole because of our opinions, 
that are like; and that I am papish. I think I 
should have more ado with a great sort in England 
to purge myself of suspect of a Lutheran, than of 
a Papist. What men judge of me abroad, this may 
be^a great token, that the King's Majesty and his 
Council know what hazard I was in in Spain with 
the Inquisition, only by speaking against the Bishop 
of Rome, where peradventure Bonner would not 
have bid such a brunt. The Emperor had much 
ado to save me, and yet that made me not hold my 
peace, when I might defend the King's deed against 
him, and improve his naughtiness. But in this case, 
good Masters, ye shall [hear] fair evidence : [what] 
the King and his Council thought in this matter, 
when they demised Mason at his first examination, 
and for the small weight there was either against 
him or me. And what thing hath there happened 
since, that was not then opened ? Inquire, and ye 
shall find none. 

But now to the other part of my accusation, touch- 
ing my saying. For the Love of our LOrd, weigh 
it substantially; and yet withal, remember the 
naughty handling of my accusers in the other point ; 
and in this you shall see no less mahciousness, and 
a great deal more falsehood. 

And first let us handle the matter, as though I 



Ixxii THE DEFENCE OP 

had so said, except only that same * falsely, mali- 
ciously, and traitorously,' with all. Were it so, I 
had said the words; yet it remaineth improved: 
(but take it not, that I grant them, for I mean not 
60,) but only that I had so said. Rehearse here the 
law of words ; declare, my Lords, I beseech you, 
the meaning thereof. This includeth that words 
maliciously spoken, or traitorously, against the King's 
person should be taken for treason. It is not meant, 
masters, of words which despise the King lightly, or 
which are not all the most reverently spoken of him, 
as a man should judge a chace against him at the 
tennis, wherewith he were not all the best contented : 
but such words, as bear an open malice ; or such 
words as persuade commotions, or seditions, or such 
things. And what say my accusers in these words ? 
Do they swear I spake them traitorously, or mali- 
ciously? I dare say, they be shameless enough; 
yet have they not so deposed against me. Read 
their depositions : They say not so. Confer their 
depositions, if they agree word for word: That is 
hard, if they were examined apart, unless they had 
conspired more than became faithful accusers. If 
they misagree in words, and not in substance, let us 
hear the words they vary in ; for in some little thing 
may appear the truth, which, I dare say, you seek 
for conscience sake. And besides that, it is a small 
thing in altering of one syllable either with pen or 
word, that may make in the conceiving of the truth 
much matter or error. For in this thing, ' I fear,' 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixxiii 

or * I trust/ seemeth but one small syllable changed, 
and yet it maketh a great difference, and may be of 
an hearer wrong conceived and worse reported ; and 
yet, worst of all, altered by an examiner. Again, 
* fall out,' ' cast out,' or ' left out,' maketh difference ; 
yea, and the setting of the words one in another's 
place may make great difference, though the words 
were all one, as, ' a mill horse,' and ' a horse mill.' 
I beseech you therefore examine the matter under 
this sort ; confer their several sayings together, con- 
fer the examinations upon the same matter, and I 
dare warrant, ye shall find misreporting and misun- 
derstanding. 

But first, for my own part, let this saying be 
interpreted in the highest kind of naughtiness and 
maliciousness ; yea, and alter them most that can be, 
that they may be found to that purpose. This is, 
(which God forbid should be thought of any man) 
that by throwing out of a cart's tail, I should mean 
that vile death, that is ordained for wretched thieves. 
Besides this ; put, that I were the naughtiest rank 
traitor that ever the ground bare : doth any man 
think that I were so foolish, so void of wit, that I 
would have told Bonner and Haynes, which had 
already lowered at my fashions, that I would so 
shameful a thing to the Ejng's Highness ? Though 
I were, I say, so naughty a knave, and not all of the 
wisest, yet am I not so very a fool, though I thought 
so abominably, to make them privy of it, with wliom 
I had no great acquaintance, and much less trust. " 



Ixxiv THE DEFENCE OF 

But it is far from that point : Men may not be 
interpreted by as much as may be evil wrested and 
worse conjectured: there must be reason and ap- 
pearance in every thing ; but that way there is none. 
But ye know, masters, it is a common proverb, ' I 
am left out of the cart's tail,' and it is taken upon 
packing gear together for carriage, that it is evil 
taken heed to, or negligently, slips out of the cart, 
and is lost. So upon this blessed peace, that was 
handled, as partly is touched before, where seemed 
to be union of most part of Christendom, I saw, that 
we hung yet in suspense between the two Princes 
that were at war, and that neither of them would 
conclude with us directly against the Bishop of 
Rome, and that we also would not conclude else 
with none of them : whereby it may appear what 
I meant by the proverb, whereby I doubted they 
would conclude among themselves and leave us out. 
And in communicating with some, peradventure, 
[fore] casting these perils I might say ; ' I fear for 
all these men's fair promises the King shall be left 
out of the cart's tail ; ' and lament that many good 
occasions had been let slip of concluding with one 
of these Princes : and I think that I have used the 
same proverb with some in talking. But that I 
used [it] ^vith Bonner or Haynes, I never remem- 
ber ; and if I ever did, I am sure never as they 
couch the tale. And if I have used it with any 
other, I think, it hath been with Blage, or with 
Mason. Let their declarations be rehearsed, if they 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. IxXV 

have been in that examined, whereby it may ap- 
pear what I meant by the proverb. 

But consider the place and time, where my ac- 
cusers sayeth, that I should speak it, and thereby 
ye shall easily perceive, that either they lie, and 
misreport the tale ; or else that I can [not] speak 
English. 

At Barcelona, say they, after we were come from 
Nice, and Villa Franca, and Aquas-Mortes ; that 
was after the truce concluded, after the meeting of 
the Princes ; yea, and afore that, the King's Majesty 
was left out of the packing indeed: whereof at 
Aquas-Mortes I sent him the copy of the conclu- 
sions, and chapters of the peace, wherein he was not 
mentioned, contrary to the Emperor's promise, and 
to the French king's letters. Since we knew all 
three the same, it is now like that after this I would 
use the future tense in that was past, and shall, ' ye 
shall see,' and then ' if he be so, by God's blood he 
is well served ;' and then, ' I would he were so.' It 
is more like I should say, if it were spoken at Barce- 
lona, that ' he is left out of the cart's tail, and by 
God's blood he is well served, and I am glad of it.' 
By this you may perceive, that either they he in the 
time, and the place, or else in the reporting the 
thing. 

But because I am wont sometime to rap out an 
oath in an earnest talk, look how craftily they have 
put in an oath to the matter, to make the matter 
seem mine ; and because they have guarded a 



Ixxvi THE DEFENCE OF 

naughty garment of theirs with one of my naughty 
guards, they will swear, and face me down, that that 
was my garment. But bring me my garment as it 
was. If I said any like thing, rehearse my tale as 
I said it. No man can believe you, that I meant it 
as you construe it ; or that I speak it as you allege 
it ; or that I understand English so evil to speak so 
out of purpose. Therefore the time, the place, and 
other men's saying upon the same matter, bewray 
your craft and your falsehood. It well appeareth 
that you have a toward will to lie, but that you 
lacked in the matter, practice, or wit : for, they say, 
' He that will lie well must have a good remem- 
brance, that he agree in all points with himself, lest 
he be spied.' 

To you, my good masters, in this purpose, I doubt 
not but you see already that in this saying, if I had 
so said, I meant not that naughty interpretation, that 
no devil would have imagined upon me ; Nother is 
proved unto you, nor one appearance thereof al- 
leged. Besides, how unlike, it is, that I should so 
say as it is alleged : and finally, as I do grant, I 
might say, and as I think, I did say, that is no 
treason ; for that I should wish or will that the 
King should be left out of the comprehension ; the 
King himself and all the Council, that were at that 
time understanding in the King's affairs, know, what 
labour and what pains I took to have his matters 
comprehended ; and I report me unto him and them : 
and some man would have thought it much to have 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixxvii 

said so mncli to his fellow, as I said after to the Em- 
peror and his counsellors, charging them with that 
they had broken promise with the King.. This was 
an evident sign of my will, that I would nothing 
less than the misgoing of the King's affairs, 
namely, of these that I had the handling of. If they 
would have proved that, they should have brought 
in my negligence, my slothfulness, my false handling 
of myself, whereby the King's matters had quailed. 
But I say this much, if they have quailed for lack of 
wit, I am excusable : let the King blame his dioice, 
and not me. But if they have been hindered of one 
minute of the advancement that they might have had 
by my untruth, my slackness, my negligence, my 
pleasures, mine eases, my meat, my health ; let any 
of this be proved, and let it be treason unto me. 

But now Cometh to places, the conjectures and 
likelihoods that maketh proofs of mine intelHgence 
with Pole, and of my malicious speaking of that 
same so disguised saying. But how can any thing 
make a proof or a conjecture of nothing ? Ye see 
the principles are wiped away : what matter can the 
appearances make ? But yet let me answer unto 
them, you shall see them make for my purpose. 

One and of the greatest is this : ' Wyatt grudged 
at his first putting in the Tower ; ergo, say they, he 
bare malice in his heart; and it is like that he 
sought intelligence with Pole ; and also he wished 
the King's affairs to miscarry, because he would one 
way or other be revenged.' Peradventure my 



Ixxviii THE DEFENCE OF 

accusers frame not their argument so much apparent 
against me : but let us examine every point thereof. 
' Wyatt grudged at his first putting into the Tower/ 
If they take grudging for being sorry, or grieving, I 
will not stick with them, I grant it, and so I think it 
would do to any here. But if they use that word 
'grudging' including a desire to revenge, I say they 
lie, I never so grudged ; nor they nor any other 
man can either prove that, or make a likelihood of a 
proof thereof. Mason saith, he hath heard me com- 
plain* thereof. What then ? Doth Mason say, that 
thereby he reckoned, I meant revenging, bearing 
maHce in my heart? I know him so well that 
he will not so interpret complaining or moaning to 
revenging. 

But here come my other two honest men, and 
they say that I should say, ' God's blood, the King 
set me in the Tower, and afterward sent me for his 
ambassador : was not this I pray you a pretty way 
to get me credit ? ' as they say, I should think. Nay 
put it, that I had spoken so like an idiot, as they 
seem to make me by this tale : what grudging or 
revenging findeth any for my putting into the Tower 
in this saying ? Is here any threatening ? Is here 
any grudging? Yea, and that it is far from my 
nature to study to revenge, it may appear by the 
many great despites and displeasures that I have 
had done unto me, which yet at this day is no man 
alive that can say that ever I did hurt him for 
revenging : and in this case yet much less ; for it is 



' SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixxix 

SO far from my desire to revenge, that I never im- 
puted to the King's Highness my imprisonment: 
and hereof can Mr. Lieutenant here present testify, 
to whom I did ever impute it. Yea, and further, 
my Lord of Suffolk himself can tell, that I imputed 
it to him ; and not only at the beginning, but even 
the very night before my apprehension now last: 
what time (I remember) my suing unto him for his 
favour to remit his old undeserved evil will, and to 
remember, ' like as he was a mortal man,' so as ' to 
bear no immortal hate in his breast.' Although I 
had received the injury at his hand, let him say 
whether this be true. 

But what is there here in this article of my 
fashion ? Mark it, I pray you, that here again they 
have guarded my tale with an oath, because it 
should seem mine. But let them be examined 
that have heard me talk of that matter, whereof 
they seem to tear a piece or two, and patch them 
together ; as if a man should take one of my doublet 
sleeves, and one of my coat, and sew them together 
after a disguised fashion, and then say, ' Look, I 
pray you, what apparel Wyatt weareth.' I say, let 
other men be examined, and ye shall find, that after 
I came out of the Tower in the commotion time,* 
that I was appointed to go against the King's reb- 
els, and did (until I was countermanded) as speedily 

* He alludes to the insurrection of the northern counties in 
1537, during Cromwell's administration. 



IXXX THE DEFENCE OF 

and as well furnished as I was well able : that after, 
I was made Sheriff of Kent for a special confidence 
in such a busy time: that after that again, I was 
sent the King's Ambassador. I have divers times 
boasted thereof, and taken it for a great declaration 
of my truth, for all my putting in the Tower, the 
confidence and the credit the King had in me after : 
and of this, peradventure, they have maliciously 
perverted some piece of my tale, if they perchance 
were there present, or heard of it. And it may 
easily appear ; for their own saying is, that I should 
say, ' Was not this, I pray you, a pretty way to get 
me credit ? ' How think ye, masters ? I suppose it 
was a way to get me credit. Trow ye, that any 
man could think, that I should think it was not a 
way to get me credit? It gat me so much credit 
that I am in debt, yet in debt for it. Mark, I be- 
seech you, how this gear hangeth together. This is 
one of their proofs that I grudged at my last putting 
in the Tower ; which, if by grudging they mean re- 
venging, you see how substantially that is proved: 
and if by grudging they mean moaning, they need 
not prove it ; I grant it. Will any man then, that 
hath honesty, wit, or discretion, gather, that because 
I bemoaned my imprisonment, that therefore I bare 
malice and would revenge ? Will any man, that 
hath christian charity and any conscience, upon such 
a malicious gathering, frame an 'accusation upon a 
man's life ? Doth any man, that hath any perceiv- 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixxxi 

ing, see not the malice of these men ? K there be 
any of jou that doth not, I bind myself, ere my tale 
be done, to let you see it in great letters. 

But unto this they add withal, that I should wish 
the King had sent me to Newgate when he sent me 
ambassador. 

I confess frankly, I never begged the office ; and, 
but for the obedience to my master, I would have 
utterly refused it. And how I excused the taking 
of it^ my Lords of the Council can tear me record, 
as well for that I knew my own inability, whereby 
I should be wondrously accumbered, for that I was 
given to a more pleasant kind of life. My cum 
brance I found again when I had great matters in 
hand, meddling with wise men, had no counsel but 
my own fooHsh head, a great zeal that the King 
might be well served by me, a great fear lest any 
thing should quail through my fault This solici- 
tude, this care troubled me. Mason, Blage, Mr. 
Hobby, Mr. Dudley, and other that were with me 
can testify, yea, and my letters ofttimes hither, that 
I wished a meeter man than myself in the room ; 
yea, and that I had been at the plough on that con- 
dition. But I never remember, in good faith, that 
I should in that matter name Newgate. But if I 
had so said (although it had been fooHslily spoken) 
what proveth this malice, to revenging for my being 
in the Tower? Would he, trow ye, that would 
revenge, wish himself in Newgate? is it not like 



lyyyii THE DEFENCE OF 

this matter ? A man would think rather, he being 
an ambassador might do more despite toward the 
King. There he might play the false knave, and 
discover, and make misrelation, and such parts. 

But what thing is that, that these men would not 
wrest for their purpose, that wrest such things? 
They found fault, that I did not them the honour 
that belonged to the King's ambassadors. I lent 
not them my horse, when they went out of Barce- 
lona, nor I did not accompany them on the way. 

First I report me to my servants, whereof some 
of them are gentlemen, [and] right honest men ; to 
their own servants ; yea, and let them answer them- 
selves. Did ye not sit always at the upper end of 
the table ? TTent we abroad at any time together, 
but that either the one or the other was on my right 
hand ? Came any man to visit me, whom I made 
not do ye reverence, and visit ye too ? Had ye not 
in the galley the most and best commodious places ? 
Had any man a worse than I? Wliere ye were 
charged with a groat, was not I charged with five ? 
Was not I for all this first in the commission ? TVas 
not I ambassador resident? A better man than 
either of ye both should have gone without that 
honour that I did you, if he had looked for it. I 
know no man that did you dishonour, but your un- 
mannerly behaviour, that made ye a laughing-stock 
to all men that came in your company, and me some- 
time to sweat for shame to see you. Tet let other 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. Ixxxin 

judge how I hid and covered your faults. But I 
have not to do to charge you ; I will not spend the 
time about it. 

But mark, I pray you, I lent not them my horses : 
they never desired to go into the town, to walk or 
stir out of their lodging: but they had mule, or 
horse, or both ready for them, foot cloth, and har- 
nessed with velvet of the best that I had for mule or 
hackney. Marry, it was thought indeed amongst 
us, that Bonner could have been content to have 
been upon a genet with gilt harness. These men 
came in post, and went again in post at their part- 
ing. My servants had gotten their post horses 
ready : would they have had without necessity my 
•horse to have ridden post ? I brought them to their 
horse. Would they, I should have companied them 
riding in post? Children would not have played 
the fool so notably. Was not this a. pretty article 
toward treason to be alleged against me by Bonner : 
Some man might think, that hereby a man might 
perceive the malice that hath moved my trouble : 
but yet it shall be more manifest. 

Another occasion there is, that I should say, 
'They were more meet to be parish priests than 
ambassadors.' By my truth, I never liked them 
indeed for ambassadors ; and no more did the most 
part of them that saw them, and namely they that 
had to do with them. But that did I not [talk], on 
my faith, with no stranger. But if I said they were 
meeter to be parish priests, on my faith I never re- 



Ixxxiv THE DEFENCE OF 

member it ; and it is not like I should so say ; for 
as far as I could see, neither of them both had 
greatly any fancy to Mass, and that, ye know, were 
requisite for a parish priest: for this can all that 
were there report, that not one of them all, while 
they were there, said mass, or offered to hear mass, 
[as] though it was but a superstition. I say, both 
Mason and I, because of the name that Englishmen 
then had, to be all Lutherans, were fain to entreat 
them that we might sometimes shew ourselves in the 
Church together, that men conceived not an evil 
opinion of us. Let Mason be asked of this. It was 
not like then, that the Bishop of London should sue 
to have the Scripture in EngUsh taken out of the 
Church. 

But I have not to do withal : I must here answer 
to interrogatories, that upon this occasion belike 
were ministered against me. Whether he thought 
that I could be a good subject, that misliketh or 
repugneth his Prince's proceedings ? I say here, as 
I said unto it, as far as misliking or repugning in- 
cludeth violent disobedience or seditious persuasion, 
I think, he is no good subject: but to mislike a 
building, a choice of an ambassador, or the making 
of a law, obeying yet nevertheless, or such things 
proceeding, although peradventure it may be done 
out of time and place, yet I think, it may be 
without hurt of allegiance : unless there be a law 
made to the contrary, wliich I know not. What 
say I then to the law of words, which Mason should 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. IxXXV 

say, that me thought very hard, and that the first 
devisers were well served in falling mto it, which he 
thinketh I meant by the Lord Eocheford or the 
Lord of Essex ? Tliis, and if it were offence, it is 
uncertain by his own saying ; and yet I never re- 
member, I said so unto him. But what is it to 
treason ? Do I maintain against the law ? do I per- 
suade any violence against the law? it rather in- 
cludeth allowance of the law, if they were well 
served, that they suflfered for offending in that. 

Again, saith Mason, that I should say unto him, 
'That it was a goodly Act, the Act of Supreme 
Head, speciously the King's Majesty being so virtu- 
ous, so wise, so learned, and so good a prince : but 
if it should fall into an evil prince, that it were a sore 
rod.' I suppose I have not missaid in that : For all 
powers, namely absolute, are sore rods when they 
fall into evil men's hands ; and yet I say, they are 
to be obeyed by express law of [God] ; for that 
there is no evil prince, but for desert of the people ; 
and no hand over an. evil prince but the hand of 
God. This, upon examining of as many men as 
have been familiar with me, among whom some 
words might have escaped me, and sucked out of 
both of them and of me with such interrogatories ; 
yet is nothing found of me of treason. Yea, and 
when there is any toward my master within this 
heart, a sharp sword go thither withal. 

But because I bound myself to make this mahce 
of my accusers to appear manifest unto you, let me 



IxXXvi THE DEFENCE OF 

come to another point of their accusing, which was, 
by Bonner's letters to the Earl of Essex, that I lived 
viciously among the Nuns of Barcelona. 

To the end ye be fully persuaded and informed 
of that matter, there be many men in the town, and 
most of them [gentlemen], which walk upon their 
horses, and here and there talk wdth those ladies ; 
and when they will, go and sit, company together 
with them, talking in their chambers. Earls, Lords, 
Dukes, use the same, and I among them. I used 
not the pastime in company of ruffians, but with 
such, or with Ambassadors of [Ferrara], of Mantua, 
of Venice, a man of sixty years old, and such vicious 
company. 

I pray you now, let me turn my tale to Bonner : 
for this riseth of him, yea, and so (I think) doth all 
the rest : for his crafty malice, I suppose in my con- 
science, abuseth the other's simpleness. 

Come on now, my Lord of London, what is my 
abominable and vicious living ? Do ye know it, or 
have ye heard it ? I grant I do not profess chastity ; 
but yet I use not abomination. If ye know it, tell it 
here, with whom and when. If ye heard it, who is 
your author ? Have you seen me have any harlot 
in my house whilst ye were in my company ? Did 
you ever see woman so much as dine, or sup at my 
table? None, but for your pleasure, the woman 
that v/as in the galley ; which I assure you may be 
well seen ; for, before you came, neither she nor any 
other came above the mast. But because the gentle- 



SIR THOMAS WYATT. IxXXviJ 

men took pleasure to see you entertain her, there- 
fore thej made her dine and sup with you; and 
they liked well your looks, your carving to Madonna, 
your drinking to her, and your playing under the 
table. Ask Mason, ask Blage, (Bowes is dead,) ask 
Wolf, that was my steward ; they can tell how the 
gentlemen marked it, and talked of it. It was a 
play to them, the keeping of your bottles, that no 
man might drink of but yourself; and ' That the lit- 
tle fat priest were a jolly morsel for the Signora.' 
This was their talk ; it is not my devise : ask other, 
whether I do he. But turn to my own part. 

Wliat, think you, this man meant sincerely to 
accuse me of treason, when he seeketh the conjec- 
tures to prove my treason by my moaning the first 
imprisonment, by not lending my horse (wherein 
also he lieth), by not accompanying him out of 
town, by misliking them for Ambassadors, and 
by my vicious hving with Nuns. This man 
thought rather to defame me, than sincerely to 
accuse me. Like as, I trust, ye will not condemn 
me for conjectures and likelihoods, and namely so 
out of all appearance, although you hear them. 
Likewise, I pray you, give me leave to shew you 
my conjecture and hkehhoods upon these things, and 
then guess, whether I go nearer the truth : and yet 
I desire not by them to be absolved, so that by the 
other I be not also condemned. 

The Earl of Essex belike desired Bonner to be 
a spy over me, and to advertise him ; he thinking 



IxXXviii THE DEFENCE OF 

that if he might wipe me out of that room, that him- 
self might come to it, as indeed the man is desirous 
of honour ; and for my part I would he had it with- 
out envy. That this might be a practice of the 
Earl of Essex, I think, toward me, not meaning for 
any treason, but to find whether it were true that 
I did so good service as was reported, I know by 
myself; for so would he have had me done for him 
toward my Lord of AYinchester, then being Ambas- 
sador in France ; and I suppose my said Lord could 
tell, by Bonner's means and one Barnaby, what a 
tragedy and a suspect they stirred against him. 
Well, all this is reconciled. But yet, I say, it is the 
likelier that he would take that office toward me, 
that used it to another ; and then, conceiving in his 
mind (and that as God judge me, falsely,) that I had 
letted him in Spain, that he had no reward of the 
Emperor, conceived therewithal a malice : and by 
some inkling that he had, that I misliked his fashion ; 
and upon this he hath built this ungodly work that 
ye see, that standeth all by invention, conjectures, 
likelihoods,* stretched, wrested, and drawn out of all, 
(God forbod) without any proof at all. 

This far I have had to say upon the foundation 
and rearing of this accusation against me ; and I do 
not mistrust your wisdom never a whit, but like as 
ye weigh the chief principles, so weigh ye little 
these horrible and slanderous words, that of ordi- 
nary learned men use both in their indictments and 
accusations, as at the beginning I declared tiiftm to 



SIR THOMAS WTATT. Ixxxix 

satisfy your conscience : but a great deal better to 
satisfy your minds, I touched afore, that this mat- 
ter two years passed was afore the Council, Mason 
in hold detained, and all this rehearsed, and he dis- 
missed. I heard thereof, and sued to come home 
for my declaration. After I came home, I was in 
hand with the Earl of Essex for that he desired me 
to let it pass. ' I was cleared well enough ; ' and he 
told me much of this thing, that I have in the mat- 
ter rehearsed. If this were not sufficient to satisfy 
your conscience, then take more with you. 

Within six months after that I came home, so far 
unlike was it, that any of these gear, both then 
known, examined, and dismissed, should be taken 
for treason, that I was sent again Ambassador to 
the Emperor at his coming into France, and the 
King's Grace had rewarded me with a good piece 
of lands, above my deserving. And then it was 
said unto me, 'I was used for the necessity,' yea, 
and my instrument of my treasons was sent with 
me, Mr. Mason. I came home in the beginning of 
the last summer. I ran not away at hone of all 
these goings over. All this while, till now, there 
hath been no question of this reckoning. If any 
thing of new be against me, which is not alleged, if 
it be nothing but this, it hath been tried and dis- 
missed. You see what evidence the Counsellors 
gave against me. The confidence put in my affairs 
is for you to acquit me. And it is a naughty fear 
(if any man have any such) to think a Quest dare 



XC THE DEFENCE OF SIR THOMAS WYATT. 

not acquit a man of treason when they thmk him 
clear; for it were a foul slander to the King's 
Majesty. God be thanked, he is no tyrant : he will 
no such things against men's conscience : he will but 
his laws, and his laws with mercy. What dis- 
pleasure bare he to the Lords for the acquitting the 
Lord Dacres ? Never none ; nor will not unto you, 
if you do as your conscience leads you. And for a 
great cause : the law ministereth betwixt the King 
and his subject an oath to the Quest in favour of the 
subject, for it supposeth more favour to be borne to 
the Prince than to the party, if the oath bound not 
Christian men's conscience. 

Thus much I thought to say unto you before both 
God and man to discharge me, that I seem not to 
perish in my own fault, for lack of declaring my 
truth; and afore God and all these men, I charge 
you with my innocent truth, that in case (as God 
defend) ye be guilty of mine innocent blood, that ye 
before his tribunal shall be inexcusable. And for 
conclusion, our Lord put in your hearts to pro- 
nounce upon me according as I have willed to the 
King, my Master and Sovereign, in heart, will, and 
wish. 

T. W. 



POEMS. 



SONGS AND SONNETS. 



THE LOVER FOR SHAMEFASTNESS HIDETH HIS 
DESIRE WITHIN HIS FAITHFUL HEART. 

The long love that in my thought I harbour,^^t-/ 
And in my heart doth keep his residence, J^'' 
Into ray face presseth with bold pretence, J^ 
And there campeth displaying his banner. '^^"''^ 
She that me learns to love and to suffer, - ^ 
And wills that my trust, and lust's negligence J^ 
Be reined by reason, shame, and reverence, jlr 
With his hardiness takes displeasure. ^ 
Wherewith love to the heart's forest he fleeth,0'' 
Leaving his enterprise with pain and cry, JJ 
And there him hideth, and not appeareth.6/ 
What may I do, when my master feareth^ 
But in the field with him to live and die, V^ 
For good is the life, ending faithfully.^j;:;^^ 



THE LOVER WAXETH WISEK, AND WILL NOT 
DIE POR AFFECTION. 

Yet was I never of your love aggrieved, ^ j 
Nor never shall while that my life doth last : 
But of hating myself, that date is past ; 1^^ 
And tears continual sore have me wearied f 



2 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

I will not yet in my grave be buried ; v'^'^ . 
Nor on my tomb your name have fixed fast,v; 
As cruel cause, that did the spirit soon haste ^ 
From th' unhappy bones, by great sighs stirred/^ 

Then if a heart of amorous faith and will O* 

^ — ■■. 

Content your mind withouten doing grief; ^/ 

Please it you so to this to do relief :-A^ 

If otherwise you seek for to fulfil *-^ 

Your wrath, you err, and shall not as you ween ;/ 
And you yourself the cause thereof have been 



THE ABUSED LOVER SEETH HIS FOLLY AND 
INTENDETH TO TRUST NO MORE. 

Was never file yet half so well yfiled, 

To file a file for any smith's intent, 

As I was made a filing instrument, 

To frame other, while that I was beguiled : 

But reason, lo, hath at my folly smiled. 

And pardoned me, since that I me repent 

Of my last years, and of my time mispent. 

For youth led me, and falsehood me misguided. 

Yet this trust I have of great apparence. 

Since that deceit is aye returnable. 

Of very force it is agreeable, 

That therewithal be done the recompense : 

Then guile beguiled plained should be never ; 

And the reward is little trust for ever. 



SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 3 



THE 



LOVER DESCRIBETH HIS BEING STRICKEN 
WITH SIGHT OF HIS LOVE. 

The lively sparks that issue from those ejes,(X 
Against the wliich there vaileth no defence, /*- 
Have piere'd my heart, and done it none offence^r 
With quaking pleasure more than once or twice, a. 
Was never man could any thing devise, ck^ 
Sunbeams to turn with so great vehemence \r 
To daze man's sight, as by their bright presence ^r 
Dazed am I ; much like unto the guise <? 
Of one stricken with dint of lightning, ^ 
Blind with the stroke, and crying here and there ; ^ 
So call I for help, I not when nor where, <1 
The pain of my fall patiently bearing : C. 

For straight after the blaze, as is no wonder, 9- 
Of deadly noise hear I the fearful thunder. > 



THE WAVERING LOVER WILLETH, AND 
DREADETH, TO MOVE HIS DESIRE. 

Such vain thought as wonted to mislead me 
In desert hope, by well assured moan. 
Makes me from company to live alone. 
In following her whom reason bids me flee. 



4 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

And after her my heart would fain be gone, 

But armed sighs my way do stop anon, 

'Twixt hope and dread locking my liberty ; 

So fleeth she by gentle cruelty. 

Yet as I guess, under disdainful brow 

One beam of ruth is in her cloudy look : 

Which comforts the mind, that erst for fear shook ; 

That bolded the way straight ; then seek I how 

To utter forth the smart I bide within ; 

But such it is, I not how. to begin. 



THE LOVER HAVING DREAMED ENJOYING 

OF HIS LOVE, COMPLAIXETH THAT THE DREAM IS 
NOT EITHER LONGER OR TRUER. 

Unstable dream, according to the place, 
Be steadfast once, or else at least be true : 
By tasted sweetness make me not to rue 
The sudden loss of thy false, feigned grace. 
By good respect, in such a* dangerous case. 
Thou broughtest not her into these tossing seas ; 
But madest my sprite to live, my care t'encrease. 
My body in tempest her delight t' embrace. 
The body dead, the spirit had his desire ; 
Painless was th' one, th' other in delight. 
Why then, alas, did it not keep it right. 
But thus return to leap into the fire ; 

And where it was at wish, could not remain ? 

Such mocks of dreams do turn to deadly pain. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE LOVER UNHAPPY BIDDETH HAPPY 

LOVERS REJOICE IN MAY, WHILE HE WAILETH 
THAT MONTH TO HIM MOST UNLUCKY. 

Ye that in love find luck and sweet abundance, 
And live in lust of joyful jollity, 
Ai'ise for sliame, do way our sluggardy : 
Arise, I say, do May some observance. 
Let me in bed lie dreaming in mischance ; 
Let me remember my mishaps unhappy, 
That me betide in May most commonly ; 
As one whom love list little to advance. 
Stephan said true, that my nativity 
Mischanced was with the ruler of May. 
He guessed (I prove) of that the verity. 
In May my wealth, and eke my wits, I say, 
Have stond so oft in such perplexity : 
Joy ; let me dream of your felicity. 



THE LOVER CONFESSETH HIM IN LOVE 
WITH PHYLLIS. 

If waker care ; if sudden pale colour ; 
If many sighs with little speech to plain : 
Now joy, now woe, if they my chere distain ; 
For hope of small, if much to fear therefore ; 



6 SIR THOMAS WYATT S POEMS. 

To haste or slack, raj pace to less, or more ; 
Be sign of love, then do I love again. 
If thou ask whom ; sure, since I did refrain 
Brunei, that set my wealth in such a roar, 
Th' unfeigned cheer of Phyllis hath the place 
That Brunet had ; she hath, and ever shall. 
She from myself now hath me in her grace ; 
She hath in hand my wit, my will, and all. 
My heart alone well worthy she doth stay, 
Without whose help scant do I live a day. 



OF OTHERS' FEIGNED SORROW, AND THE 
LOVER'S FEIGNED MIRTH. 

CiESAR, when that the traitor of Egypt 
With th' honourable head did him present, 
Covering his heart's gladness, did represent 
Plaint with his tears outward, as it is writ. 
Eke Hannibal, when fortune him outshyt* 
Clean from his reign, and from all his intent, 
Laugh'd to his folk, whom sorrow did torment ; 
His cruel despite for to disgorge and quit. 
So chanced me, that every passion 
The mind hideth by colour contrary, 
With feigned visage, now sad, now merry ; 
AVhereby if that I laugh at any season, 
It is because I have none other way 
To cloke my care, but under sport and play. 

* Outshut. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



OF CHANGE IN MIND. 

Each man me telleth I change most my devise ; 
And on my faith, methink it good reason 
To change purpose, hke after the season. 
For in each case to keep still one guise, 
Is meet for them that would be taken wise ; 
And I am not of such manner condition ; 
But treated after a diverse fashion ; 
And thereupon my diverseness doth rise. 
But you, this diverseness that blamen most, 
Change you no more, but still after one rate 
Treat you me well, and keep you in that state ; 
And while with me doth dwell this wearied ghost. 
My word, nor I, shall not be variable. 
But always one ; your own both fii^m and stable. 



HOW THE LOVER PERISHETH IN HIS DELIGHT 
AS THE FLY IN THE FIRE. 

Some fowls there be that have so perfect sight, 
Against the sun their eyes for to defend ; 
And some, because the light doth them offend, 
Never appear but in the dark or night : 
Other rejoice to see the fire so bright, 



8 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

And ween to plaj in it, as they pretend, 
But find contrary of it, that they intend. 
Alas ! of that sort may I be by right ; 
For to withstand her look I am not able ; 
Yet can I not hide me in no dark place ; 
So folio we th me remembrance of that face, 
That with my teary eyen, swoln, and unstable, 

My destiny to behold her doth me lead ; 

And yet I know I run into the glead. 



AGAINST HIS TONGUE THAT FAILED TO 
UTTER HIS SUITS. 

Because I still kept thee fro' lies and blame, 
And to my power always thee honoured. 
Unkind tongue ! to ill hast thou me rendered, 
For such desert to do me wreke and shame. 
In need of succour most when that I am. 
To ask reward, thou stand'st like one afraid : 
Alway most cold, and if one word be said. 
As in a dream, unperfect is the same. 
And ye salt tears, against my will each night 
That are with me, when I would be alone ; 
Then are ye gone when I should make my moan : 
And ye so ready sighs to make me shriglit. 

Then are ye slack when that ye should outstart ; 

And only doth my look declare my heart. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT S POEMS. 



DESCRIPTION OF THE CONTRARIOUS PAS- 
SIONS IN A LOVER. 

I FIND no peace, and all my war is done ; 
I fear and hope, I burn, and freeze like ice ; 
I fly aloft, yet can I not arise ; 
And nought I have, and all the world I seize on, 
That locks nor loseth, holdeth me in prison, 
And holds me not, yet can I scape no wise : 
Nor letteth me live, nor die, at my devise, 
And yet of death it giveth me occasion. 
Without eye I see ; without tongue I plain : 
I wish to perish, yet I ask for health; 
1 love another, and I hate myself; 
I feed me in sorrow, and laugh in all my pain. 
Lo, thus displeaseth me both death and life. 
And my delight is causer of this strife. 



THE LOVER COMPARETH HIS STATE TO A SHIP 
IN PERILOUS STORM TOSSED ON THE SEA. 

My galley charged with forgetfulness. 
Through sharp seas, in winter nights, doth pass 
'Tween rock and rock ; and eke my foe, alas. 
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness : 
And every hour, a thought in readiness, 



10 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

As thougli that death were light in such a case. 
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace 
Of forced sighs and trusty fearfulness ; 
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain, 
Have done the wearied cords great hinderance : 
Wreathed with error, and with ignorance ; 
The stars be hid that lead me to this pain ; 
Drown'd is reason that should be my comfort, 
And I remain, despairing of the port. 



OF DOUBTFUL LOVE. 

AvisiNG the bright beams of those fair eyes, 

Where he abides that mine oft moistens and washeth ; 

The wearied mind straight from the heart departeth. 

To rest within his worldly paradise, 

And bitter finds the sweet, under his guise. 

What webs there he hath wrought, well he per- 

ceiveth : 
Whereby then with himself on love he plaineth, 
That spurs with fire, and bridleth eke with ice. 
In such extremity thus is he brought : 
Frozen now cold, and now he stands in flame : 
'Twixt woe and wealth, betwixt eafnest and game, 
With seldom glad, and many a diverse thought, 
In sore repentance of his hardiness. 
Of such a root, lo^ cometh fruit fruitless. 



SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 11 



THE LOVER ABUSED RENOUNCETH LOVE. 

My love to scorn, my service to retain, 
Therein, methoiight, jou used cruelty ; 
Since with good will I lost my liberty, 
To follow her which causeth all my pain.* 
Might never woe yet cause me to refrain ; 
But only this, which is extremity. 
To give me nought, alas, nor to agree 
That, as I was, your man I might remain : 
But since that tlTus ye list to order me. 
That would have been your servant true and fast ; 
Displease you not, my doting time is past ; 
And with my loss to leave I must agree : 
For as there is a certain time to rage. 
So is there time such madness to assuage. 



TO HIS LADY, CRUEL OVER HER YIELDING 

LOVER. 

Such is the course that nature's kind hath wrought, 
That snakes have time to cast away their stings : 
Against chain'd prisoners what need defence be 

sought ? 
The fierce lion will hurt no yielden things : 

* This line is supplied in Nott's edition from the Devonshire 
MS. 



12 SIR THOilAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Why should such spite be nursed then by thought ? 
Sith all these powers are prest under thy wings ; 
And eke thou seest, and reason thee hath taught, 
Wliat mischief malice many ways it brings : 
Consider eke, that spite availeth nought. 
Therefore this song thy fault to thee it sings : 
Displease thee not, for saying thus my thought, 
Nor hate thou him from whom no hate forth springs - 
For furies that in hell be execrable. 
For that they hate, are made most miserable. 



HOW UNPOSSIBLE IT IS TO FIND QUIET IN 

LOVE. 

Ever my hap is slack and slow in coming, a 
Desire increasing, ay my hope uncertain i- 
With doubtful love, that but increaseth pain ; {- 
For, tiger like, so swift it is in parting, x 
Alas ! the snow black shall it be and scalding, a 
The sea waterless, and fish upon the mountain, ^^ 
The Tliames shall back return into his fountain,/^ 
And where he rose the sun shall take lodging, o^_ 
Ere I in this find peace or quietness ; t 
Or that Love, or my Lady, right-wisely, t) 
Leave to conspire against me wrongfully.' 
And if I have after such bitterness, e_ 

One drop of sweet, my mouth is out of taste, ^ 
That all my trust and travail is but waste. 9^ 



SIB THOMAS WYATT's P0E]M[S. 13 



OF LOVE, FORTUNE, AND THE LOVER'S MIND 

'*j /liOVE, Fortune, and my mind which do remember ft^ 
\4^ j Eke that is now, and that, that once hath ben, M 
I Torment my heart so sore, that very often J^ 
[ I hate and envy them beyond all measure, a^ 
/* Love slayeth mine heart, while Fortune is depriver ^^ 
-f Of all my comfort ; the foolish mind then Aj- 
i Burneth and plaineth, as one that very seldomei- 
"-- Liveth in rest. So still in displeasure ^... 
jTVIy pleasant days they fleet and pass ; d- 
^ ) And daily doth mine ill change to the worse : J 
Ljrhile more than half is run now of my course. « 
r Alas, not of steel, but of brittle glass, o 
f < I see that from my hand falleth my trust, ^ 
(^ And all my thoughts are dashed into dust, a- 



THE LOVER PRAYETH HIS OFFERED HEART 
TO BE RECEIVED. 

How oft have I, my dear and cruel foe, 
With my great pain to get some peace or truce, 
Given you my heart ; but you do not use 
In so high things, to cast your mind so low. 



14 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

If any other look for it, as you trow, 
Their vain weak hope doth greatly them abuse : 
And that thus I disdain, that you refuse ; 
It was once mine, it can no more be so. 
If you it chafe, that it in you can find. 
In this exile, no manner of comfort, 
Npr live alone, nor where he is called resort ; 
He may wander from his natural kind. 
So shall it be great hurt unto us twain. 
And yours the loss, and mine the deadly pain. 



THE LOVER'S LIEE COMPARED TO THE ALPS. 

Like unto these unmeasurable mountains 

So is my painful Hfe, the burden of ire ; 

For high be they, and high is my desire ; 

And I of tears, and they be full of fountains : 

Under craggy rocks they have barren plains ; 

Hard thoughts in me my woful mind doth tire : 

Small fruit and many leaves their tops do attire, 

With small effect great trust in me remains : 

The boisterous winds oft their high boughs do blast ; 

Hot sighs in me continually be shed : 

Wild beasts in them, fierce love in me is fed ; 

Unmovable am I, and they steadfast. 

Of singing birds they have the tune and note ; 

And I always plaints passing through my throat. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 15 



CHARGING OF HIS LOVE AS UNPITEOUS AND 
LOVING OTHER. 

If amorous faith, or if a heart unfeigned, 
A sweet langour, a great lovely desire, 
If honest will kindled in gentle fire, 
If long error in a blind maze chained, 
If in my visage each, thought distained, 
Or if mj sparkling voice, lower, or higher, 
Which fear and shame so wofullj doth tire ; 
If pale colour, which love, alas, hath stained. 
If to have another than myself more dear. 
If wailing or sighing continually. 
With sorrowful anger feeding busily. 
If burning far off, and if freezing near. 
Are cause that I by love myself destroy. 
Yours is the fault, and mine the great annoy. 



THE LOVER FORSAKETH HIS UNKIND LOVE. 

My heart I gave thee, not to do it pain. 
But to preserve, lo, it to thee was taken. 
I served thee, not that I should be forsaken ; 
But, that I should receive reward again, 
I was content thy servant to remain ; 
And not to be repay ed on this fashion. 
Now, since in thee there is none other reason, 



16 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POExMS. 

Displease thee not, if that I do refrain. 
Unsatiate of my woe, and thy desire ; 
Assured by craft for to excuse thy fault : 
But, since it pleaseth thee to feign default, 
Farewell, I say, departing from the fire. 
For he that doth believe, bearing in hand, 
Plougheth in the water, and soweth in the sand. 



THE LOVER DESCRIBETH HIS RESTLESS 
STATE. 

The flaming sighs that boil within my breast. 
Sometime break forth, and they can well declare 
The heart's unrest, and how that it doth fare, 
The pain thereof, the grief, and all the rest. 
The water'd eyen from whence the tears do fall, 
Do feel some force, or else they would be dry ; 
The wasted flesh of colour dead can try, 
And sometime tell what sweetness is in gall : 
And he that lust to see, and to discern 
How care can force within a wearied mind, 
Come he to me, I am that place assigned : 
But for all this, no force, it doth no harm ; 
The wound, alas, hap in some other place. 
From whence no tool away the scar can raze. 
But you, that of such like have had your part. 
Can best be judge. Wherefore, my friend so dear, 
I thought it good my state should now appear 
To you, and that there is no great desert. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 17 

And whereas you, in weighty matters great, 

Of fortune saw the shadow that you know, 

For trifling things I now am stricken so, 

That though I feel my heart doth wound and beat, 

I sit alone, save on the second day 

My fever comes, with whom I spend my time 

In burning heat, while that she list assign. 

And w^ho hath health and liberty alway, 

Let him thank God, and let him not provoke. 
To have the like of this my painful stroke. 



THE LOVER LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS 

LOVE. 

The pillar perish'd is whereto I leant. 
The strongest stay of mine unquiet mind ; 
The like of it no man again can find, 
From east to west still seeking though he went. 
To mine unhap. For hap away hath rent 
Of all my joy the very bark and rind : 
And I, alas, by chance am thus assign'd 
Daily to mourn, till death do it relent. 
But since that thus it is by destiny. 
What can I more but have a woful heart ; 
My pen in plaint, my voice in careful cry. 
My mind in woe, my body full of smart ; 
And I myself, myself always to hate. 
Till dreadful death do ease by doleful state. 
2 



18 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



A KENOUNCING OF LOYE. 

Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever ; 
Thy baited hooks shall tangle me no more : 
Senee, and Plato, call me from thy lore, 
To perfect wealth, my wit for to endeavour ; 
In blind error when I did persever, 
Thy sharp repulse, that pricketh aye so sore, 
Taught me in trifles that I set no store ; 
But scaped forth thence, since, liberty is lever : 
Therefore, farewell, go trouble younger hearts, 
And in me claim no more authority : 
With idle youth go use thy property. 
And thereon spend thy many brittle darts : 
For, hitherto though I have lost my time, 
Me list no longer rotten boughs to clime. 



THE LOVER DESPAIRING TO ATTAIN UNTO 

HIS lady's grace relinqutsheth the pursuit. 

Whoso Hst to hunt? I know where is an hind! 
But as for me, alas ! I may no more. 
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore ; 
I am of them that furthest come behind. 
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 19 

Draw from the deer ; but as she fleeth afore 
Fainting I follow ; I leave off therefore, 
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind. 
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt 
As well as I, may spend his time in vain ! 
And graven with diamonds in letters plain. 
There is written her fair neck round about; 
' Noli me tangere ; for Caesar's I am, 
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.' 



THE DESERTED LOVER CONSOLETH HIMSELF 

WITH REMEMBRANCE THAT ALL WOMEN ARE BY 
NATURE FICKLE. 

DiYERS doth use, as I have heard and know, 
When that to change their Ladies do begin 
To mourn, and wail, and uever for to lynn ; 
Hoping thereby to 'pease their painful woe. 
And some there be that when it chanceth so 
That women change, and hate where love hath been, 
They call them false, and think with words to win 
The hearts of them which otherwhere doth grow. 
But as for me, though that by chance indeed 
Change hath outworn the favour that I had, 
I will not wail, lament, nor yet be sad. 
Nor call her false that falsely did me feed ; 
But let it pass, and think it is of kind 
That often change doth please a woman's mind. 



20 sm THOMAS wyatt's poems. 



THAT HOPE UNSATISFIED IS TO THE LOVER'S 
HEART AS A PROLONGED DEATH. 

I ABIDE, and abide ; and better abide, 
After the old proverb the happy day. 
And ever my Lady to me doth say, 
' Let me alone, and I will provide.' 
I abide, and abide, and tarry the tide, 
Ajid with abiding speed well ye may. 
Thus do I abide I wot alway, 
N' other obtaining, nor yet denied. 
Aye me ! this long abiding 
Seemeth to me, as who sayeth 
A prolonging of a dying death. 
Or a refusing of a desired thing. 
Much were it better for to be plain. 
Than to say, * Abide,' and yet not obtain. 



HE PRAYETH HIS LADY TO BE TRUE; 

FOR NO ONE CAN RESTRAIN A 'V^^LLIXO MIND. 

Though I myself be bridled of my mind, 
Returning me backward by force express ; 
If thou seek honour, to keep thy promess 
Who may thee hold, but thou thyself unbind ? 
Sigh then no more, since no way man may find 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 21 

Thy virtue to let, though that frowardness 

Of Fortune me holdeth ; and yet as I may guess 

Though other be present thou art not all behmd. 

Suffice it then that thou be ready there 

At all hours ; still under the defence 

Of Time, Truth, and Love to save thee from offence. 

Crying I burn in a lovely desire, 

With my dear Mistress that may not follow ; 

Whereby mine absence turneth me to sorrow. 



THE DESERTED LOVER 

WISHETH THAT HIS RIVAL MIGHT EXPERIENCE THE SAME 
• FORTUNE HE HIMSELF HAD TASTED. 

To rail or jest, ye know I use it not ; 

Though that such cause sometime in folks I find. 

And though to change ye list to set your mind, 

Love it who list, in faith I like it not. 

And if ye were to me, as ye are not, 

I would be loth to see you so unkind : 

But since your fault must needs be so by kind ; 

Though I hate it I pray you love it not. 

Things of great weight I never thought to crave, 

This is but small ; of right deny it not : 

Your feigning ways, as yet forget them not. 

But like reward let other Lovers have ; 
That is to say, for service true and fast, 
Too long delays, and changing at the last. 



22 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



RONDEAUX. 

REQUEST TO CUPID FOR REVENGE OF 
HIS UNKIND LOVE. 

Behold, Love, thy power how she despiseth ; 
My grievous pain how little she regardeth : 
The solemn oath, whereof she takes no cure, 
Broken she hath, and yet, she bideth sure, 
Right at her ease, and little thee she dreadeth : 

Weaponed thou art, and she unarmed sitteth 
To thee disdainful, all her life she leadeth ; 
To me spiteful, without just cause or measure : 
Behold, Love, how proudly she triumpheth. 

I am in hold, but if thee pity moveth. 
Go, bend thy bow, that stony hearts breaketh, 
And with some stroke revenge the displeasure 
Of thee, and him that sorrow doth endure, 
And, as his lord, thee lowly here entreateth. 



COMPLAINT FOR TRUE LOVE UNREQUITED. 

What vaileth truth, or by it to take pain ? 
To strive by steadfastness for to attain 
How to be just, and flee from doubleness ? 
Since all alike, where ruleth craftiness, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's P0E3IS. 23 

Rewarded is both crafty, false, and plain. 

Soonest he speeds that most can lie and feign : 
True meaning heart is had in high disdain. 
Against deceit and cloaked doubleness. 
What vaileth truth, or perfect steadfastness ? 

Deceived is he by false and crafty train. 
That means no guile, and faithful doth remain 
Within the trap, without help or redress : 
But for to love, lo, such a stern mistress, 
Where cruelty dwells, alas, it were in vain. 



THE LOVER SENDETH SIGHS TO MOVE 
HIS SUIT. 

Go, burning sighs, unto the frozen heart, 
To break the ice, which pity's painful dart 
Might never pierce : and if that mortal prayer 
In heaven be heard, at least yet I desire 
That death or mercy end my woful smart. 
Tak6 with thee pain, whereof I have my part, 
And eke the flame from which I cannot start, 
And leave me then in rest, I you require. 
Go, burning sighs, fulfiU that I desire, 
I must go work, I see, by craft and art. 
For truth and faith in her is laid apart : 
Alas, I cannot therefore now assail her, 
With pitiful complaint and scalding fire, 
That, from my breast deceivably doth start. 



24 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS, 



THE LOVER SEEKING FOR HIS LOST HEART 

PRAYETH THAT IT MAY BE KINDLY ENTREATED 
BY WHOMSOEVER FOUND. 

Help me to seek ! for I lost it there ; 
And if that ye have found it, ye that be here, 
And seek to convey it secretly, 
Handle it soft, and treat it tenderly, 
Or else it will plain, and then appair. 
But pray restore it mannerly. 
Since that I do ask it thus honestly, 
For to lese it, it sitteth me near ; 
Help me to seek ! 

Alas ! and is there no remedy : 
But have I thus lost it wilfully. 
I wis it was a thing all too dear 
To be bestowed, and wist not where. 
It was mine heart ! I pray you heartily 
Help me to seek. 



HE DETERMINETH TO CEASE TO LOVE. 

For to love her for her looks lovely, 
My heart was set in thought right firmly, 
Trusting by truth to have had redress ; 
But she hath made another promess, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 25 

And hath given me leave full honestly. 
Yet do I not rejoice it greatly ; 
For on my faith I loved too surely, 
But reason will that I do cesse. 

For to love her. 
Since (that in love the pains been deadly), 
Methink it best that readily 
I do return to my first address ; 
For at this time too great is the press. 
And perils appear too abundantly, 

For to love her. 



OF THE FOLLY OF LOVING WHEN THE 
SEASON OF LOVE IS PAST. 

Ye old mule ! that think yourself so fair, 
Leave off with craft your beauty to repair. 
For it is time without any fable ; 
No man setteth now by riding in your saddle ! 
Too much travail so do your train appair 

Ye old mule ! 
•With false favour though you deceive th'ayes. 
Who so taste you shall well perceive your layes 
Savoureth somewhat of a keeper's stable ; 

Ye old mule ! 
Ye must now serve to market, and to fair. 
All for the burthen, for panniers a pair ; 



26 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

For since grey hairs ben powder'd in jour sable, 
The thing ye seek for, you must yourself enable 
To purchase it by payment and by prayer ; 
Ye old mule ! 



THE ABUSED LOVER RESOLVETH TO FORGET 
HIS UNKIND MISTRESS. 

What no, per die ! ye may be sure ! 
Think not to make me to your lure, 
With words and chere so contrarying. 
Sweet and sower countre-weighing. 
Too much it were still to endure. 
Truth is tried, where craft is in ure. 
But though ye have had my heartes cure, 
Trow ye ! I dote without ending ? 

What no, perdie ! 
Though that with pain I do procure 
For to forget that once was pure ; 
Within my heart shall still that thing 
Unstable, unsure, and wavering, 
Be in my mind without recure ? 

What ho, perdie ! 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 27 



THE ABSENT LOVER PERSUADETH HIMSELF 

THAT HIS MISTRESS ^NILL NOT HAVE THE POWER 
TO FORSAKE HIM. 

If it be so that I forsake thee, 
As banished from thy company ; 
Yet my heart, my mind, and my affection, 
Shall still remain in thy perfection. 
And right as thou list so order me. 
But some would say in their opinion, 
Revolted is thy good intention. 
Then may I well blame thy cruelty, 

K it be so. 
But myself I say on this fashion ; 
' I have her heart in my possession. 
And of itself cannot, perdie ! 
By no means love, an heartless body ! ' 
And on my faith good is the reason, 

If it be so. 



28 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 



THE RECURED LOVER 

REKOUXCETH HIS FICKLE MISTRESS FOR HER NEW- 
FANGLEXESS. 

Thou hast no faith of him that hath none, 
But thou must love him needs by reason ; 
For as saith a proverb notable, 
Each thing seeketh his semblable. 
And thou hast thine of thy condition. 
Yet is it not the thing I pass on, 
Nor hot nor cold is mine affection ! 
For since thine heart is so mutable, 

Thou hast no faith. 
I thought thee true without exception. 
But I perceive I lacked discretion ; 
To fashion faith to words mutable. 
Thy thought is too light and variable 
To change so oft without occasion. 

Thou hast no faith ! 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 29 



ODES. 

THE LOVER COMPLAINETH THE UNKINDNESS 
OF HIS LOVE. 

My lute, awake, perform the last 
Labour, that thou and I shall waste ; 
And end that I have now begun : 
And when this song is sung and past, 
My lute, be still, for I have done. 

As to be heard where ear is none ; 
As lead to grave in marble stone ; 
My song may pierce her heart as soon. 
Should we then sigh, or sing, or moan ? 
No, no, my lute, for I have done. 

The rocks do not so cruelly 
Repulse the waves continually, 
As she my suit and affection : 
So that I am past remedy ; 
TThereby my lute and I have done. 

Proud of the spoil that thou hast got 
Of simple hearts through Love's shot, 
By whom unkind thou hast them won : 
Think not he hath his bow forgot. 
Although my lute and I have done. 

Vengeance shall fall on thy disdain. 
That makest but game on earnest pain ; 
Think not alone under the sun 



30 SIR THOMAS WYATT S POEMS. 

Unquit to cause thy lovers plain ; 
Although my lute and I have done. 

May chance thee lie withered and old 
In winter nights, that are so cold, 
Plaining in vain unto the moon ; 
Thy wishes then dare not be told : 
Care then who list, for I have done. 

And then may chance thee to repent 
The time that thou hast lost and spent, 
To cause thy lovers sigh and swoon : 
Then shalt thou know beauty but lent, 
And wish and want as I have done. . 

Now cease, my lute, this is the last 
Labour, that thou and I shall waste ; 
And ended is that we begun : 
Now is this song both sung and past ; 
My lute, be still, for I have done. 



THE LOVER REJOICETH THE ENJOYING OF 
HIS LOVE. 

Once, as methought, fortune me kiss'd. 
And bade me ask what I thought best. 
And I should have it as me list, 
Therewith to set my heart in rest. 

I asked but my lady's heart. 
To have for evermore mine own ; 
Then at an end were all ray smart ; 
Then should I need no more to moan. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 31 

Yet for all that a stormy blast 
Had overturn'd this goodly nay ; 
And fortune seemed at the last 
That to her promise she said nay. 

But like as one out of despair, 
To sudden hope revived I, 
Now Fortune sheweth herself so fair, 
That I content me wondrously. 

My most desire my hand may reach, 
My will is alway at my hand ; 
Me need not long for to beseech 
Her, that hath power me to command. 

What earthly thing more can I crave ? 
What would I wish more at my will ? 
Nothing on earth more would I have, 
Save that I have, to have it still. 

For Fortune now hath kept her promess, 
In granting me my most desire : 
Of my sovereign I have redress. 
And I content me with my hire. 



THE LOYER SHEWETH HOW HE IS FORSAKEN 
OF SUCH AS HE SOMETBIE ENJOYED. 

They flee from me, that sometime did me seek, 
With naked foot stalking within my chamber : 
Once have I seen them gentle, tame, and meek. 
That now are wild, and do not once remember, 



32 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

That sometime they have put themselves in danger 
To take bread at mj hand ; and now they range 

Busily seeking in continual change. 

Thanked be Fortune, it hath been otherwise 
Twenty times better ; but gnce especial, 
In thin array, after a pleasant guise. 
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall, 
And she me caught in her arms long and small. 
And therewithal so sweetly did me kiss. 
And softly said, ' Dear heart, how hke you this ? * 

It was no dream ; for I lay broad awaking : " 
But all is turn'd now, through my gentleness, 
Into a bitter fashion of forsaking ; 
And I have leave to go of her goodness ; 
And she also to use new fangleness. 
But since that I unkindly so am served : 
How like you this, what hath she now deserved ? 



THE LOVER TO HIS BED, WITH DESCRIBING 
OF HIS UNQUIET STATE. 

The restful place, renewer of my smart, 
The labours' salve, increasing my sorrow. 
The body's ease, and troubler of my heart. 
Quieter of mind, mine unquiet foe, 
Forgetter of pain, rememberer of my woe, 
The place of sleep, wherein I do but wake, 
Besprent with tears, my bed, I thee forsake. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 33 

The frosty snows may not redress my heat, 
Nor heat of sun abate my fervent cold, 
I know nothing to ease my pains so great ; 
Each cure causeth increase by twenty fold, 
Renewing cares upon my sorrows old, 
Such overthwart effects in me they make : 
Besprent with tears, my bed for to forsake. 

But all for nought, I find no better ease 
In bed or out : this most causeth my pain, 
Where I do seek how best that I may please ; 
My lost labour, alas, is all in vain : • 
My heart once set, I cannot it refrain ; 
No place from me my grief away can take ; 
Wherefore with tears, my bed, I thee forsake. 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH THAT HIS LOVE 
DOTH NOT PITY HIM. 

Resound my voice, ye woods, that hear me 
Both hills and vales causing reflexion ; [plain ; 
And rivers eke, record ye of my pain. 
Which have oft forced ye by compassion. 
As judges, lo, to hear my exclamation : 
Among whom ruth, I find, yet doth remain ; 
Where I it seek, alas, there is disdain. 

Oft, ye rivers, to hear my woful sound 
Have stopt your course : and plainly to express 
Many a tear by moisture of the ground, 

3 



34 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

The earth hath wept to hear my heaviness : 
Which causeless I endure without redress. 
The hugy oaks have roared in the wind : 
Each thing, methought, complaining in their kind. 

Why then, alas, doth not she on me rue ? 
Or is her heart so hard that no pity 
May in it sink, my joy for to renew ? 
O stony heart, who hath thus framed thee 
So cruel ; that art cloaked with beauty ; 
That from thee may no grace to me proceed, 
But as reward, death for to be my meed ? 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH HIMSELF 
FORSAKEN. 

Where shall I have at mine own will, 
Tears to complain ? where shall I fet 
Such sighs, that I may sigh my fill, 
And th^n again my plaints repeat ? 
For, though my plaint shall have none end, 
My tears cannot suffice my woe : 
To moan my harm have I no friend ; 
For fortune's friend is mishap's foe. 
Comfort, God wot, else have I none, 
But in the wind to waste my wordes ; 
Nought moveth you my deadly moan. 
But still you turn it into hordes. 
I speak not now, to move your heart, 
That you should rue upon my pain ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 35 

The sentence given may not revert : 
I know such labour were but vain. 
But since that I for you, my dear, 
Have lost that thing, that was my best ; 
A right small loss it must appear 
To lose these words, and all the rest. 
But though they sparkle in the wind. 
Yet shall they shew your falsed faith ; 
Which is returned to his kind ; 
For like to like, the proverb saith. 
Fortune and you did me avance ; 
Methought I swam, and could not drown : 
Happiest of all ; but my mischance 
Did Uft me up, to throw me down. 
And you with her, of cruelness 
Did set your foot upon my neck. 
Me, and my welfare, to oppress ; 
Without offence your heart to wreck. 
Where are your pleasant words, alas ? 
Where is your faith ? your steadfastness ? 
There is no more but all doth pass, 
And I am left all comfortless. 
But since so much it doth you grieve, 
And also me my wretched life, 
Have here my truth : nought shall relieve, 
But death alone, my wretched strife. 
Therefore farewell, my life, my death ; 
My gain, my loss, my salve, my sore ; 
Farewell also, with you my breath ; 
For I am gone for evermore. 



86 SIB THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 



A RENOUNCING OF HARDLY ESCAPED LOVE. 

Farewell the heart of cruelty ; 
Though that with pain my liberty 
Dear have I bought, and wofully 
Finished my fearful tragedy. 
Of force I must forsake such pleasure ; 
A good cause just, since I endure 
Thereby my woe, which be ye sure, 
Shall therewith go me to recure. 

I fare as one escap'd that fleeth. 
Glad he is gone, and yet still feareth 
Spied to be caught, and so dreadeth 
That he for nought his pain leseth. 
In joyful pain, rejoice my heart. 
Thus to sustain of each a part. 
Let not this song from thee astart. 
Welcome among my pleasant smart. 



THE LOVER TAUGHT, MISTRUSTETH 
ALLUREMENTS. 

It may be good, like it who list ; 
But 'I do doubt : who can me blame ? 
For oft assured, yet have I mist ; 
And now again I fear the same. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 37 

The words, that from jour moutli last came, 
Of sudden change, make me aghast ; 
For dread to fall, I stand not fast 

Alas, I tread an endless maze, 
That seek t' accord two contraries ; 
And hope thus still, and nothing hase. 
Imprisoned in liberties : 
As one unheard, and still that cries ; 
Always thirsty, and nought doth taste ; 
For dread to fall, I stand not fast. 

Assured, I doubt I be not sure ; 
Should I then trust unto such surety ; 
That oft hath put the proof in ure, 
And never yet have found it trusty ? 
Nay, sir, in faith, it were great folly : 
And yet my life thus do I waste ; 
For dread to fall, I stand not fast. 



THE LOVER REJOICETH AGAINST FORTUNE 

THAT BY HINDERING HIS SUIT HAD HAPPILY 
MADE HIM FORSAKE HIS FOLLY. 

In faith I wot not what to say, 
Thy chances been so wonderous, 
Thou Fortune, with thy divers play 
That makest the joyful dolorous. 
And eke the same right joyous. 
Yet though thy chain hath me enwrapt. 
Spite of thy hap, hap hath well hapt. 



38 SIR THOMAS AYYATT's POEMS. 

Though thou has set me for a wonder, 
And seekest by change to do me pain : 
Men's minds yet mayst thou not so order ; 
For honesty, if it remain, 
Shall shine for all thy cloudy rain. 
In vain thou seekest to have me trapped ; 
Spite of thy hap, hap hath well hapt. 

In hindering me, me didst thou further ; 
And made a gap, where was a stile : 
Cruel wills been oft put under ; 
Weening to lour, then didst thou smile : 
Lord, how thyself thou didst beguile, 
That in thy cares wouldst me have wrapt ? 
But spite of hap, hap hath well hapt. 



THE LOVER'S SORROWFUL STATE 

MAKETH HIM WRITE SORROWFUL SONGS, BUT SUCH HIS 
LOVE MAY CHANGE THE SAME. 

IVIarvel no more althouo^h 
The songs, I sing, do moan ; 
For other life than woe, 
I never proved none. 

And in my heart also 
Is graven with letters deep, 
A thousand sighs and mo, 
A flood of tears to weep. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 39 

How may a man in smart 
Find matter to rejoice ? 
How may a mourning heart 
Set forth a pleasant voice ? 

Play, who so can, that part, 
Needs must in me appear 
How fortune overthwart 
Doth cause my mourning cheer. 

Perdie there is no man, 
If he saw never sight. 
That perfectly tell can 
The nature of the light. 

Alas, how should I than, 
That never taste but sour. 
But do as I began, 
Continually to lour. 

But yet perchance some chance 
May chance to change my tune, 
And when such chance doth chance. 
Then shall I thank fortune. 

And if I have such chance, 
Perchance ere it be long, 
For such a pleasant chanCe, 
To sing some pleasant song. 



40 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE LOVER SENDETH HIS COMPLAINTS AND 

TEARS TO SUE FOR GRACE. 

• 

Pass forth, my wonted cries, 
Those cruel ears to pierce. 
Which in most hateful wise 
Do still my plaints reverse. 
Do you, my tears, also 
So wet her barren heart, 
That pity there may grow. 
And cruelty depart. 

For though hard rocks among 
She seems to have been bred, 
And of the tiger long 
Been nourished and fed ; 
Yet shall not nature change, 
If pity once win place ; 
Whom as unknown and strange 
She now away doth chase. 

And as the water soft. 
Without forcing or strength, 
Where that it falleth oft 
Hard stones doth pierce at length : 
So in her stony heart 
My plaints at last shall grave, 
And, rigour set apart. 
Win grant of that I crave. 



( 



Sm THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 41 

Wherefore, mj plaints, present 
Still so to her mj suit, 
As ye, through her assent, 
May bring to me some fruit. 
And as she shall me prove, 
So bid her me regard ; 
And render love for love ; 
Which is a just reward. 



THE LOVER'S CASE CANNOT BE HIDDEN 
HOWEVER HE DISSE:yiBLE. 

Your looks so often cast, 
Your eyes so friendly roll'd, 
Your sight fixed so fast. 
Always one to behold ; 
Though hide it fain ye would, 
It plainly doth declare. 
Who hath your4heart in hold, 
And where good, will ye bear. 

Fain would ye find a cloak 
Your brenning fire to hide, 
Yet both the flame and smoke 
Breaks out on every side. 
Ye cannot love so guide. 
That it no issue win : 
Abroad needs must it glide. 
That brens so hot within. 



42 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

For cause yourself do wink, 
Ye judge all other blind : 
And secret it you think, 
Which every man doth find. 
In waste oft spend ye wind, 
Yourself in love to quit ; 
For agues of that kind 
Will shew who hath the fit. 

Your sighs you fetch from far, 
And all to wry your woe ; 
Yet are ye ne'er the narre : 
Men are not blinded so. 
Deeply oft swear ye no ; 
But all those oaths are vain : 
So well your eye doth shew. 
Who puts your heart to pain. 

Think not therefore to hide. 
That still itself betrays : 
Nor seek means to provide 
To dark the sunny days. 
Forget those wonted ways ; 
Leave off such frowning cheer ; 
There will be found no stays. 
To stop a thing so clear. 



Sm THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 43 



THE LOVER PRAYETH NOT TO BE DISDAINED, 

REFUSED, MISTRUSTED, NOR FORSAKEN. 

Disdain me not without desert ; 
Nor leave me not so suddenly ; 
Since weU ye wot, that in my heart 
I mean ye not but honestly. 

Refuse me not without cause why ; 
For think me not to be unjust ; 
Since that by lot of fantasy, 
This careful knot needs knit I must. 

Mistrust me not, though some there be, 
That fain would spot my steadfastness : 
Believe them not, since that ye see, 
The proof is not, as they express. 

Forsake me not, till I deserve ; 
Nor hate me not, till I offend ; 
Destroy me not. till that I swerve : 
But since ye know what I intend, 

Disdain me not, that am your own ; 
Refuse me not, that am so true ; 
Mistrust me not, till all be known ; 
Forsake me not now for no new. 



44 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



THE LOVER LAMENTETH HIS ESTATE WITH 
SUIT FOR GRACE. 

For want of will in woe I plain, 
Under colour of soberness ; 
Renewing with my suit my pain, 
My wanhope with your steadfastness. 
Awake therefore of gentleness ; 
Regard, at length, I you require, 
My swelting pains of my desire. 

Betimes who giveth willingly. 
Redoubled thanks aye doth deserve ; 
And I that sue unfeignedly. 
In fruitless hope, alas ! do sterve. 
How great my cause is for to swerve, 
And yet how steadfast is my suit, 
Lo, here ye see : where is the fruit ? 

As hound that hath his keeper lost, 
Seek I your presence to obtain ; 
In which my heart delighteth most. 
And shall delight though I be slain. 
You may release my band of pain ; 
Loose then the care that makes me cry 
For want of help, or else I die. 

I die though not incontinent ; 
By process, yet consumingly. 
As waste of fire which doth relent : 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 45 

If jou as wilful will deny. 
Wherefore cease of such cruelty, 
And take me wholly in your grace ; 
Which lacketh will to change his place. 



THE LOVER WAILETH HIS CHANGED JOYS. 

If every man might him avaunt 
Of fortune's friendly cheer ; 
It was myself, I must it grant. 
For I have beught it dear : 
And dearly have I held also 
The glory of 4ier name, 
In yielding her such tribute, lo, 
As did set forth her fame. 

Sometime I stood so in her grace. 
That as I would require, 
Each joy I thought did me embrace. 
That furthered my desire : 
And all those pleasures, lo, had I, 
That fancy might support ; 
And nothing she did me deny 
That was unto my comfort. 

I had, what would you more, perdie ? 
Each grace that I did crave ; 
Thus Fortune's will was unto me 
All thing that I would have : 



46 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

But all too rathe, alas the while, 
She built on such a ground : 
In little space, too great a guile 
In her now have I found. 

For she hath turned so her wheel, 
That I, unhappy man, 
May wail the time that I did feel 
Wherewith she fed me than : 
For broken now are her behests, 
And pleasant looks she gave. 
And therefore now all my requests 
From peril cannot save. 

Yet would I well it might appear 
To her my chief regard ; 
Though my deserts have been too dear 
To merit such reward t^ 
Since Fortune's will is now so bent 
To plague me thus, poor man, 
I must myself therewith content, 
And bear it as I can. 



TO HIS LOVE THAT HATH GIVEN HIM 
ANSWER OF REFUSAL. 

The answer that ye made to me, my dear. 
When I did sue for my poor heart's redress, 
Hath so appaird my countenance and my cheer. 
That in this case I am all comfortless ; 
Since I of blame no cause can well express. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 47 

I have no wrong, where I can claim no right, 
Nought ta'en me fro, where I have nothing had, 
Yet of m J woe I cannot so be quite ; 
Namely, since that another may be glad 
With that, that thus in sorrow makes me sad. 

Yet none can claim, I say, by former grant. 
That knoweth not of any grant at all ; 
And by desert, I dare well make avaunt 
Of faithful will ; there is nowhere that shall 
Bear you more truth, more ready at your call. 

Now good then, call again that bitter word. 
That touch'd your friend so near with pangs of pain ; 
And say, my dear, that it was said in bord : 
Late, or too soon, let it not rule the gain. 
Wherewith free will doth true desert retain. 



THE LOVER DESCRIBETH HIS BEING TAKEN 
WITH SIGHT OF HIS LOVE. 

Unwarily so was never no man caught. 
With steadfast look upon a goodly face. 
As I of late : for suddenly, methought. 
My heart was torn out of his place. 

Though mine eye the stroke from hers did slide, 
And down directly to my heart it ran ; 
In help whereof the blood did glide. 
And left my face both pale and wan. 



48 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Then was I like a man for woe amazed, 
Or like the fowl that fleeth into the fire ; 
For while that I upon her beauty gazed, 
The more I burn'd in my desire. 

Anon the blood start in my face again, 
Inflam'd with heat, that it had at my heart. 
And brought therewith, throughout in every vein, 
A quaking heat with pleasant smart. 

Then was I like the straw, when that the flame 
Is driven therein by force and rage of wind ; 
I cannot tell, alas, what I shall blame, 
Nor what to seek, nor what to find. 

But well I wot the grief doth hold me sore 
In heat and cold, betwixt both hope and dread, 
That, but her help to health doth me restore, 
This restless life I may not lead. 



THE LOVER EXCUSETH HIM OF WORDS, 

WHEREWITH HE WAS UNJUSTLY CHARGED. 

Perdie I said it not ; 
Nor never thought to do : 
As well as I, ye wOt, 
I have no power thereto. 
And if I did, the lot, 
That first did me enchain, 
May never slake the knot. 
But straight it to my pain ! 



Sm THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 49 

And if I did each thing, 
That may do harm or woe, 
Continually may wring 
My heart where so I go ! 
Eeport may always ring 
Of shame on me for aye, 
If in my heart did spring 
The words that you do say. 

And if I did, each star, 
That is in heaven above, 
May frown on me to mar 
The hope I have in love ! 
And if I didj such war 
As they brought unto Troy, 
Bring all my life as far 
From all his lust and joy ! 

And if I did so say. 
The beauty that me bound, 
Increase from day to day 
More cruel to my wound ! 
With all the moan that mav, 
To plaint may turn my song ; 
My life may soon decay, 
Without redress, by wrong! 

If I be clear from thought, 
Why do you then complain ? 
Then is this thing but sought 
To turn my heart to pain. 
Then this that you have wrought. 
You must it now redress ; 
4 



50 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Of right therefore you ought 
Such rigour to repress. 

And as I have deserved, 
So grant me now my hire ; 
You know I never swerved, 
You never found me liar. 
For Rachel have I served, 
For Leah cared I never ; 
And her I have reserved 
"Within my heart for ever. 



THE LOVER CURSETH THE TIME WHEN 
FIRST HE FELL IN LOVE. 

When first mine eyes did view and mark 
Thy fair beauty to behold ; 
And when my ears listened to hark 
The pleasant words, that thou me told ; 
I would as then I had been free 
From ears to hear, and eyes to see. 
And when my lips gan first to move, 
Whereby my heart to thee was known, 
And when my tongue did talk of love 
To thee that hast true love down thrown ; 
I would my lips and tongue also 
Had then been dumb, no deal to go. 
And when my hands have handled ought 
That thee hath kept in memory, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 51 

And when my feet have gone and sought 

To find and get thee company, 

I would, each hand a foot had been, 
And I each foot a hand had seen. 

And when in mind I did consent. 

To follow this my fancy's will, 

And when my heart did first relent 

To taste such bait, my life to spill, 
I would my heart had been as thine, 
Or else thy heart had been as mine. 



THE LOVER DETERMINETH TO SERVE 
FAITHEULLY. 

SixcE Love will needs that I shall love, 
Of very force I must agree : 
And since no chance may it remove, 
In wealth and in adversity, 
I shall alway myself apply 
To serve and suffer patiently. 

Though for good will I find but hate, 
And cruelly my life to waste, 
And though that still a wretched state 
Should pine my days unto the last. 
Yet I profess it willingly 
To serve and suffer patiently. 

For since my heart is bound to serve. 
And I not ruler of mine own, 



52 SIR THOMAS WYATT's P0E3IS. 

Whatso befall, till that I sterve 
By proof full well it shall be known, 
That I shall still myself apply 
To serve and suffer patiently. 

Yea though my grief find no redress, 
But still increase before mine eyes, 
Though my reward be cruelness, 
With all the harm hap can devise, 
Yet I profess it willingly 
To serve and suffer patiently. 

Yea though Fortune her pleasant face 
Should shew, to set me up aloft. 
And straight my wealth for to deface. 
Should writhe away, as she doth oft, 
Yet would I still myself apply 
To serve and suffer patiently. 

There is no grief, no smart, no woe, 
That yet I feel, or after shall. 
That fi-om this mind may make me go ; 
And whatsoever me befall, 
I do profess it willingly 
To serve and suffer patiently. 



TO HIS UNKIND LOVE. 

What rage is this ? what furor ? of what kind ? 
What power? what plague doth weary thus my 
Within my bones to rankle is assigned, [mind ? 

Wliat poison pleasant sweet ? 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 53 

Lo, see, mine eyes flow with continual tears, 
The bodj still away sleepless it wears, 
My food nothing my fainting strength repairs, 
Nor doth my limbs sustain. 

In deep wide wound, the deadly stroke doth turn 
To cureless scar that never shall return: 
Go to, triumph, rejoice thy goodly turn, 
Thy friend thou dost oppress. 

Oppress thou dost, and hast of him no cure, 
Nor yet my plaint no pity can procure. 
Fierce tiger fell, hard rock without recure. 
Cruel rebel to love. 

Once may thou love, never beloved again, 
So love thou still, and not thy love obtain. 
So wrathful love, with spites of just disdain, 
May threat thy cruel heart. 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH HIS ESTATE. 

I SEE, that chance hath chosen me 
Thus secretly to live in pain. 
And to another given the fee. 
Of all my loss to have the gain : 
By chance assigned thus do I serve, 
And other have that I deserve. 

Unto myself sometime alone 
I do lament my woful case ; 
But what availeth me to moan 
Since truth and pity hath no place 



54 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

In them, to whom I sue and serve ? 
And other have that I deserve. 

To seek by mean to change this mind, 
Alas, I prove, it will not be ; 
For in mj heart I cannot find 
Once to refrain, but still agree. 
As bound by force, alway to serve, 
And other have that I deserve. 

Such is the fortune that I have. 
To love them most that love me lest ; 
And to my pain to seek, and crave 
The thing that other have possest : 
So thus in vain alway I serve. 
And other have that I deserve. 

And till I may appease the heat, 
If that my hap will hap so well. 
To wail my woe my heart shall frete. 
Whose pensive pain my tongue can tell ; 
Yet thus unhappy must I serve, 
And other have that I deserve. 



WHETHER LIBERTY BY LOSS OF LIFE, 

OR LIFE IN PRISON AND THRALDOM BE TO 
BE PREFERRED. 

Like as the bird within the cage inclosed. 
The door unsparred, her foe the hawk without, 
'Twixt death and prison piteously oppressed, 
Whether for to choose standeth in doubt ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 55 

Lo, SO do I, which seek to bring about. 
Which should be best by determination, 
By loss of life liberty, or life by prison. 

O mischief by mischief to be redressed, 
Where pain is best, there lieth but little pleasure. 
By short death better to be delivered. 
Than bide in painful Hfe, thraldom, and dolour : 
Small is the pleasure, where much pain we suffer. 
Rather therefore to choose me thinketh wisdom. 
By loss of life liberty, than life by prison. 

And yet methinks, although I hve^and suffer, 
I do but wait a time and fortune's chance ; 
Oft many things do happen in one hour ; 
That which oppress'd me now may me, advance. 
In time is trust, which by death's grievance 
Is wholly lost. Then were it not reason 
By death to choose liberty, and not life by prison. 

But death were dehverance, where life lengths 
pain. 
Of these two ills let see now choose the best, 
This bird to deliver that here doth plain : 
What say, ye lovers ? which shall be the best ? 
In cage thraldom, or by the hawk opprest : 
And which to choose make plain conclusion. 
By loss of life liberty, or life by prison ? 



56 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



HE RULETH NOT THOUGH HE REIGN OVER 

REALMS, THAT IS SUBJECT TO HIS OWN LUSTS. 

If thou wilt mighty be, flee from the rage 
Of cruel will ; and see thou keep thee free 
From the foul yoke of sensual bondage : 
For though thine empire stretch to Indian sea, 
And for thy fear trembleth the farthest Thule, 
If thy desire h^ve over thee the power, 
Subject then art thou and no governor. 

If to be noble and high thy mind be moved, 
Consider well thy ground and thy beginning ; 
For he that hath each star in heaven fixed, 
And gives the moon her horns, and her eclipsing. 
Alike hath made the noble in his working ; 
So that wretched no way may thou be. 
Except foul lust and vice do conquer thee. 

All were it so thou had a flood of gold 
Unto thy tliirst, yet should it not suffice ; 
And though with Indian stones a thousand fold, 
More precious than can thyself devise, 
Ycharged were thy back ; thy covetise. 
And busy biting yet should never let 
Thy wretched life, ne do thy death profet. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'^ I'OEMS. 57 



THE FAITHEUL LOVER 

GIVETH TO HIS MISTRESS HIS HEART AS HIS BEST AND 
ONLY TREASURE. 

To seek each where where man doth live, 
The sea, the land, the rock, the clive, 
France, Spain, and Inde, and every w^here ; 
Is none a greater gift to give, 
Less set by oft, and is so lief and dear. 
Dare I well say, than that I give to year. 

I cannot give broaches nor rings. 
These goldsmith work, and goodly things, 
Pierrie, nor pearl, orient and clear ; 
But for all that can no man bring 
Lieffer jewel unto his lady dear, 
Dare I well say, than that I give to year. 

Nor I seek not to fetch it far ; 
Worse is it not tho' it be narr. 
And as it is, it doth appear 
Uncounterfeit mistrust to bar. 
It is both whole, and pure, withouten peer. 
Dare I will say, the gift I give to year. 

To thee therefore the same retain ; 
The like of thee to have again 
France would I give, if mine it were. 
Is none alive in whom doth reign 
Lesser disdain ; freely therefore lo ! here 
Dare I well give, I say, my heart to year. 



58 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



A DESCKIPTION OF THE SORROW OF TRUE 
LOVERS' PARTING. 

There was never nothing more me pain'd, 
Nor more my pity mov'd, 
As wlien my sweetheart her eomplain'd, 
That ever she me lov'd. 

Alas ! the while ! 
With piteous look she said, and sight, 
^ Alas ! what aileth me ? 
To love, and set my wealth so light, 
On him that loveth not me ; 

Alas ! the while ! 
' Was I not well void of all pain, 
When that nothing me griev'd ? 
And now with sorrows I must complain. 
And cannot be relieved, 

Alas ! the while ! 
* My restful nights, and joyful days, 
Since I began to love 
Be take from me ; all thing decays. 
Yet can I not remove, 

Alas ! the while ! * 
She wept and wrung her hands withal, 
The tears fell in my neck : 
She turned her face, and let it fall ; 
And scarce therewith could speak : 

Alas ! the while ! 



SIR THOMAS WYATt's POEMS. 59 

Her pains tormented me so sore 
That comfort had I none, 
But cursed my fortune more and more 
To see her sob and groan, 
Alas ! the while ! 



THE NEGLECTED LOVER 

CAL.LETH ON HIS STONY HEARTED MISTRESS TO HEAR HIM 
COMPLAIN ERE THAT HE DIE. 

. Heaven, and earth, and all that hear me plain 
Do well perceive what care doth make me cry ; 
Save you alone, to whom I cry in vain ; 
Mercy, Madam, alas ! I die, I die ! 

If that you sleep, I humbly you require 
Forbear awhile, and le;^ your rigour slake, 
Since that by you I burn thus in this fire ; 
To hear my plaint, dear heart, awake ! awake ! 

Since that so oft ye have made me to wake 
In plaint, and tears, and in right piteous case ; 
Displease you not if force do now me make 
To break your sleep, crying alas ! alas ! 

It is the last trouble that ye shall have 
Of me. Madam, to hear my last complaint ; 
Pity at least your poor unhappy slave. 
For in despair, alas ! I faint, I faint. 

It is not now, but long and long ago 
I have you served, as to my power and might 



60 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS, 

As faithfully as any man might do ; 
Claiming of you nothing of right, of fight 

Save of your grace only to stay my life 
That fleeth as fast as cloud before the wind ; 
For since that first I entered in this strife, 
An inward death hath fret my mind, my mind. 

If I had suffered this to you unware 
Mine were the fault, and you nothing to blame ; 
But since you know my woe and all my care, 
Why do I die, alas ! for shame ! for shame ! 

I know right well my face, my look, my tears, 
Mine eyes, my words, and eke my dreary chere 
Have cried my death full oft unto your ears ; 
Hard of belief it doth appear, appear. 

A better proof I see that ye would have ; 
How I am dead, therefore, when ye hear tell 
Believe it not, although ye see my grave ; 
Cruel ! unkind ! I say farewell ! farewell ! 



KE REJOICETH THE OBTAINING THE FAVOUR 
OF THE MISTRESS OF HIS HEART. 

After great storms the calm returns, 
And pleasanter it is thereby ; 
Fortune likewise that often turns. 
Hath made me now the most happy. 

The Heaven that pitied my distress. 
My just desire, and my cry ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 61 

Hath made my languor to cease, 
And me also the most happy. 

Whereto dispaired ye, my friends ? 
My trust alway in her did lie 
That knoweth what my thought intends ; 
Whereby I live the most happy. 

Lo I what can take hope from that heart. 
That is assured steadfastly ; 
Hope therefore ye that live in smart, 
Whereby I am the most happy. 

And I that have felt of your pain 
Shall pray to God continually, 
To make your hope, your health retain, 
And me also the most happy. 



THE LOVER PRAYETH VENUS TO CONDUCT 
HIM TO THE DESIRED HAVEN. 

Though this the port, and I thy servant true. 
And thou thyself doth cast thy beams from high 
From thy chief house, promising to renew 
Both joy and eke delight, behold yet how that I, 
Banished from my bliss, carefully do cry. 
Help now Cytheraea ! my lady dear. 
My fearful trust, ' En vogant la Galere.' 

Alas ! the doubt that dreadful absence giveth ! 
Without thine aid assurance is there none ; 
The firm faith that in the water fleteth. 



62 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Succour thou therefore, in thee it is alone. 
Stay that with faith, that faithfully doth moan, 
Thou also givest me both hope and fear. 
Remember me then, ' En vogant Galere.' 

By seas, and hills elonged from thy sight, 
Thy wonted grace reducing to my mind, 
Instead of sleep thus I occupy the night ; 
A thousand thoughts, and many doubts I find. 
And still I trust thou canst not be unkind, 
Or else despair my comfort and my chere 
Would she forthwith, ' En vogant la Galere.' 

Yet, on my faith ! full little doth remain 
Of any hope whereby I may myself uphold ; 
For since that only words do me retain, 
I may well think the affection is but cold. 
But since my will is nothing as I would, 
And in thy hands it resteth whole and clear. 
Forget me not, ' En vogant la Galere.' 



THE LOVER PRAISETH THE BEAUTY OF HIS 
LADY^S HAND. 

O GOODLY hand, 

Wherein doth stand 
My heart distract in pain : 

Dear hand, alas ! 

In little space 
My life thou dost restrain. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 63 

O fingers slight. 

Departed right, 
So long, so small, so round ! 

Goodly begone, 

And yet a bone 
Most cruel in my wound. 

» 
With lilies white 

And roses bright 
Doth strain thy colour fair: 

Nature did lend 

Each finger's end 
A pearl for to repair. 

Consent at last. 

Since that thou hast 
My heart in thy demain, 

For service true 

On me to rue. 
And reach me love again. 

And if not so 

There with more woe 
Enforce thyself to strain 

This simple heart. 

That suffered smart. 
And rid it out of pain. 



64 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THAT THE EYE BEWRAYETH ALWAY THE 
SECRET AFFECTIONS OF THE HEART. 

And if an eye may save or slay, 
And strike more deep than weapon long ; 
And if an eye by subtle play, 
May move one more than any tongue ; 
How can ye say that I do wrong, 
Thus to suspect without desert ? 
For the eye is traitor to the heart. 

To frame all well, I am content 
That it were done unweetingly ; 
But yet I say, (who will assent,) 
To do but well, do nothing why 
That men should deem the contrary ; 
For it is said by men expert ; 
That the eye is traitor of the heart. 

But yet, alas ! that look, all soul, 
That I do claim of right to have. 

Should not,, methink go seek the school. 

To please, all folk, for who can crave 
Friendlier thing than heart witsave 
By look to give in friendly part ; 
For the eye is traitor of the heart. 

And my suspect is without blame ; • 
For as ye say, not only I 
But other mo have deem'd the same ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 65 

Then is it not jealousy, 

But subtle look of reckless eye 

Did range too far, to make me smart ; 

For the eye is traitor of the heart. 

But I your Friend shall take it thus, 
Since you will so, as stroke of chance ; 
And leave further for to discuss, 
Whether the stroke did stick or glance ? 
But 'scuse who can let him advance 
Dissembled looks, but for my part, 
My eye must still betray my heart. 

And of this grief ye shall be quit, 
In helping Truth steadfast to go. 
The time is long that Truth doth sit 
Feeble and weak, and suff 'reth woe ; 
Cherish him well, continue so ; 
Let him not fro' your heart astart ; 
Then fears not the eye to shew the heart. 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH 

THAT FAITH MAY NOT AVAIL WITHOUT THE FAVOUR OF 
FA^'TASY. 

If Fancy would favour, 
As my deserving shall ; 
My Love, my Paramour, 
Should love me best of all. 

But if I cannot attain 
The grace that I desire. 



66 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

Then may I well complain 
My service, and my hire. 

Fancy doth know how 
To further my true heart ; 
If Fancy might avow 
With Faith to take part. 

But Fancy is so frail 
And flitting still so fast, 
That Faith may not prevail 
To help me, first nor last. 

For Fancy at his lust, 
Doth rule all but by guess ; 
Whereto should I then trust 
In truth or steadfastness. 

Yet gladly would I please 
The fancy of her heart. 
That may me only ease 
And cure my careful smart. 

Therefore, my Lady dear, 
Set once your Fantasy 
To make some hope appear, 
Of steadfast remedy. 

For if he be my friend, 
And undertake my woe^ 
My grief is at an end 
If he continue so. 

Else Fancy doth not right ; 
As I deserve and shall. 
To have you day and night, 
To love me best of all. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 67 



THAT TOO MUCH CONFIDENCE SOMETIMES 
DISAPPOINTETH HOPE. 

My hope, alas ! hath me abused, 
And vain rejoicing hath me fed : 
Lust and joy have me refused, 
And careful plaint is in their stead ; 
Too much advancing slack'd my speed. 
Mirth hath caused my heaviness, 
Ajid I remain all comfortless. 

Whereto did I assure my thought 
Without displeasure steadfastly ; 
In Fortune's forge my joy was wrought. 
And is revolted readily. 
I am mistaken wonderly ; 
For I thought nought but faithfulness ; 
Yet I remain all comfortless. 

In gladsome cheer I did delight, 
Till that delight did cause my smart. 
And all was wrong when I thought right ; 
Fpr right it was, that my true heart 
Should not from Truth be set apart, 
Since Truth did cause my hardiness ; 
Yet I remain all comfortless. 

Sometime delight did tune my song. 
And led my heart full pleasantly ; 
And to myself I said among ; 



68 SIR THOMAS WYATT^S POEMS. 

' My hap is coming hastily.' 
But it hatK happed contrary. 
Assurance causeth my distress, 
And I remain all comfortless. 

Then if my note now do vary, 
And leave his wonted pleasantness ; 
The heavy burthen that I carry 
Hath altered all my joyfulness. 
No pleasure hath still steadfastness, 
But haste hath hurt my happiness ; 
And I remain all comfortless. 



THE LOVER BEMOANETH HIS UNHAPPINESS 

THAT HE CANNOT OBTAIN GRACE, YET CANNOT 
CEASE LOVING. 

I \ 

All heavy minds 
Do seek to ease their charge ; 
And that that most them binds 
To let at large. 

Then why should I 
Hold pain within my heart, 
And may my tune apply, 
To ease my smart. 

My faithful Lute 
Alone shall hear me plain. 
For else all other suit 
Is clean in vain. 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 69 

For where I sue 
Redress of all my grief; 
Lo ! they do most eschew 
My heart's relief. 

Alas ! my dear ! 
Have I deserved so ? 
That no help may appear 
Of all my woe ! 

Whom speak I to ? 
Unkind, and deaf of ear ! 
Alas ! lo ! I go. 
And wot not where. 

Where is my thought ? 
Where wanders my desire? 
Where may the thing be sought 
That I require ? 

Light in the wind 
Doth flee all my delight ; 
Where truth and faithful mind 
Are put to flight. 

Who shall me give 
Feather'd wings for to flee ? 
The thing that doth me grieve 
That I may see ! 

Who would go seek 
The cause whereby to pain ? 
Who could his foe beseek 
For ease of pain ! 

My chance doth so 
My woful case procure, 



70 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

To offer to my foe 
My heart to cure. 

What hope I then 
To have any redress ! 
Of whom, or where, or when ? 
Who can express ! 

No I since despair 
Hath set me in this case. 
In vain is't in the air 
To say, Alas ! 

I seek nothing 
But thus for to discharge 
My heart of sore sighing, 
To plain at large. 

And with my lute 
Sometime to ease my pain ; 
For else all other suit 
Is clean in vain. 



THE MOURNFUL LOVER TO HIS HEART WITH 
COMPLAINT THAT IT WILL NOT BREAK 

Comfort tliyself, my woful heart. 
Or shortly on thyself thee wreak ; 
For length redoubleth deadly smart ; 
Why sigh'st thou, heart ! and wilt not break ? 

To waste in sighs were piteous death ; 
Alas ! I find thee faint and weak. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 71 

r 

Enforce thyself to lose thy breath ; 

Why sigh'st thou, heart ! and wilt not break ? 

Thou knowest right well that no redress 
Is thus to pine ; and for to speak, 
Perdie ! it is remediless ; 
Why sigh'st thou then, and wilt not break ? 

It is too late for to refuse 
The yoke, when it is on thy neck ! 
To shake it off, vaileth not to muse ; 
Why sigh'st thou then, and wilt not break ? 

To sob, and sigh it were but vain. 
Since there is none that doth it reck ; 
Alas ! thou dost prolong thy pain ; 
Why sigh'st thou then, and wilt not break ? 

Then in her sight to move her heart 
Seek on thyself, thyself to wreak. 
That she may know thou suffered'st smart ; 
^igh there thy last, and therewith break. 



THE LOVER RENOUNCES HIS CRUEL LOVE 
FOR EVER, 

Alas ! the grief, and deadly woful smart, 
The careful chance, shapen afore my shert. 
The sorrowful tears, the sighs hot as fire. 
That cruel love hath long soked from my heart ! 
And for reward of over great desire 
Disdainful doubleness have I, for my hire. 



72 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

O ! lost service ! O pain ill rewarded ! 
! pitiful heart ! with pain enlarged ! 

! faithful mind ! too suddenly assented ! 
Return, alas ! sithens thou art not regarded. 
Too great a proof of true faith presented, 
Causeth bj right such faith to be repented. 

cruel causer of undeserved change. 
By great desire unconstantly to range, 

Is this your way for proof of steadfastness ? 
Perdie ! you know, the thing was not so strange, 
By former proof too much my faithfulness ; 
What needeth then such coloured doubleness ? 

1 have wailed thus, weeping in nightly pain, 
In sobs, and sighs, alas ! and all in vain. 

In inward plaint, and hearts woful torment 
And yet, alas ! lo ! cruelty and disdain 
Have set at nought a faithful true intent. 
And price hath privilege truth to prevent. 

But though I starve, and to my death still mourn, 
And piecemeal in pieces though I be torn ; 
And though I die, yielding my wearied ghost, 
Shall never thing again make me return. 

1 wite thou .... of that that I have lost 
To whom so ever lust for to prove most. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 73 



A COMPLAINT OF HIS LADY^S CRUELTY. 

Since ye delight to know^ 
That my torment and woe ^%/ 
Should still increase l^jt- 
Without release, l^ 
I shall enforce me so,i/ 
That life and all shall go ^ 
For to content your cruelnessO^ 

And so this grievous Irain^^^ 
That I too long sustain,^ 
Shall sometime cesse,i/ 
And have redress, ^ 
And you also remain^ | 
Full pleased with my pain/->^ 
For to content your cruelness/ 

Unless that be too light, 
And that ye would ye might, 
See the distress. 
And heaviness, 
Of one slain out right. 
Therewith to please your sight, 
And to content your cruelness. 

Then in your cruel mood 
TVould God ! forthwith ye would 
With force express. 
My heart oppress. 



74 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

To do your heart such good, 
To see me bathe in blood, 
For to content your cruelness. 
Then could ye ask no more ; 
Then should ye ease my sore. 
And the excess 
Of my distress ; 
And you should evermore 
Defamed be therefore. 
For to repent your cruelness. 



OF THE CONTRARY AFFECTIONS OF THE 
LOVER. 

Such hap as I am happed in, 
Had never man of truth I ween ; 
At me Fortune list to begin, 
To shew that never hath been seen, 
A new kind of unhappiness ; 
Nor I cannot the thing I mean 

Myself express. 
Myself express my deadly pain, 
That can I well, if that might serve ; 
But when I have not help again. 
That know I not, unless I sterve. 
For hunger still amiddes my food 
[Lacking the thing] that I deserve 

To do me good. 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 75 

To do me good what may prevail, 
Por I deserve, and not desire, 
And still of cold I me bewail. 
And raked am in burning fire ; 
For though I have, such is my lot, 
In hand to help that I require. 

It helpeth not. 
It helpeth not but to increase 
That, that by proof can be no more ; 
Th^t is, the heat that cannot cease ; 
And that I have, to crave so sore. 
What wonder is this greedy lust ! 
To ask and have, and yet therefore 

Refrain I must. 
Refrain I must ; what is the cause ? 
Sure as they say, ' So hawks be taught.' 
But in my case layeth no such clause ; 
For with such craft I am not caught ; 
Wherefore I say, and good cause why. 
With hapless hand no man hath raught 

Such hap as I. 



THAT RIGHT CANNOT GOVERN FANCY. 

I HAVE sought long with steadfastness 
To have had some ease of my great smart ; 
But nought availeth faithfulness 
To grave within your stony heart. 

But hap, and hit, or else hit not, 



76 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

As uncertain as is the wind ; 
Right so it fareth by the shot 
Of Love, alas ! that is so blind. 

Therefore I play'd the fool in vain, 
With pity when I first began 
Your cruel heart for to constrain, 
Since love regardeth no doubtful man. 

But of your goodness, all your mind 
Is that I should complain in vain ; 
This is the favour that I find ; 
Ye list to* hear how I can plain ! 

But tho' I plain to please your heart, 
Trust me I trust to temper it so, 
Not for to care which do revert ; 
All shall be one, or wealth, or woe. 

For fancy ruleth, though Right say nay 
Even as the good man kist his cow : 
None other reason can ye lay, 
But as who sayeth ; ' I reck not how.* 



THAT TRUE LOVE AVAILETH NOT WHEN 
FORTUNE LIST TO FROWN. * 

To wish, and' want, and not obtain ; 
To seek and sue ease of my pain, 
Since all that ever I do is vain, 

Wliat may it avail me ! 
Although I strive both day and hour 
Against the stream, with all my power. 



Sm THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 77 

If Fortune list yet for to lower, 

What may it avail me ! 
If willingly I suffer woe ; 
If from the fire me list not go ; 
If then I burn to plain me so. 

What may it avail me ! 
And if the harm that I suffer, 
Be run too far out of measure, 
To seek for help any further, 

What may it avail me ! 
What tho' each heart that heareth me plain, 
Pitieth and plaineth for my pain ; 
If I no less in gi-ief remain, 

What may it avail me ! 
Yea ! though the want of my relief 
Displease the causer of my grief; 
Since I remain still in mischief. 

What may it avail me ! 
Such cruel chance doth so me threat 
Continually inward to freat. 
Then of release for to treat ; 

What may it avail me ! 
Fortune is deaf unto my call ; 
My torment moveth her not at all ; 
And though she turn as doth a ball, 

What may it avail me ! 
For in despair there is no rede ; 
To want of ear, speech is no speed ; 
To linger still alive as dead, 

What may it avail me ! 



78 SIR THOMAS WYATT S POEMS 



THE DECEIVED LOVER SUETH ONLY FOR 
LIBERTY. 

If chance assigned, 
Were to my mind, 
By very kind 

Of destiny ; 
Yet would I crave 
Nought else to have, 

But life and Hberty. 
Then were I sure, 
I might endure 
The displeasure 

Of cruelty ; 
Where now I plain, 
Alas ! in vain. 

Lacking my life, for liberty. 
For without th' one, 
Th' other is gone, 
And there can none 

It remedy ; 
If th' one be past, 
Th' other doth waste, 

And all for lack of liberty. 
And so I drive, 
As yet alive. 
Although I strive 

With misery ; 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 79^ 

Drawing my breath, 
Looking for death, 

And loss of life for liberty. 
But thou that still, 
Mayst at thy will, 
Turn all this ill 

Adversity ; 
For the repair. 
Of my welfare, 

Grant me but life and liberty. 
And if not so. 
Then let all go 
To wretched woe, 

And let me die ; 
For th' one or th' other. 
There is none other ; 

My death, or life with liberty. 



THE LOVER CALLETH ON HIS LUTE TO HELP 
HIM BEMOAN HIS HAPLESS FATE. 

At most mischief 
I suffer grief; 
For of relief 

Since I have none, « 

My Lute and I 
Continually 
Shall us apply 

To sigh and moan. 



80 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Nought may prevail 
To weep or wail ; 
Pity doeth fail 

In you, alas ! 
Mourning or moan, 
Complaint or none, 
It is all one, 

As in this case. 
For cruelty, 
That most can be, 
Hath sovereignty 

Within your heart ; 
Which maketh bare. 
All my welfare : 
Nought do ye care 

How sore I smart 
No tiger's heart 
Is to pervert, 
Without desert 

To wreak his ire ; 
And you me kill 
For my good will : 
Lo ! how I spill 

For my desire ! 
There is no love 
That can ye move, 
And I can prove 

None other way ; 
Therefore I must 
Restrain my lust. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 81 

Banish my trust, 

And wealth away. 
Thus in mischief 
I suffer grief, 
For of relief 

Since I have none ; 
My lute and I 
Continually 
Shall us apply 

To siffh anrfmoan. 



THAT THE POWER OF LOVE IS SUCH HE 
WORKETH IMPOSSIBILITIES. 

To cause accord, or to agree 
Two contraries in one degree. 
And in one point, as seemeth me 
To all man's wit it cannot be ; 

It is impossible ! 
Of heat and cold when I complain. 
And say that heat doth cause my pain, 
When cold doth shake me every vein, 
And both at once ! I say again. 

It is impossible ! 
That man that hath his heart away. 
If life liveth there, as men do say, 
That he heartless should last one day 
Alive, and not to turn to clay, 

It is impossible ! 
6 



82 * SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

'Twixt life and death, say what who saith, 
There liveth no life that draweth breath ; 
They join so near, and eke I' faith, 
To seek for life by wish of death, 

It is impossible ! 
Yet Love, that all thing doth subdue. 
Whose power there may no life eschew, 
Hath wrought in me that I may rue 
These miracles to be so true, 

That are impossible. 



THAT THE LIFE OF THE UNTIEGARDED LOVER 
IS WORSE THAN DEATH. 

What death is worse than this ! 

When my delight, 

My weal, my joy, my bliss. 

Is from my sight 

Both day and night, 

My life, alas I I miss. 

For though I seem alive. 
My heart is hence ; 
Thus bootless for to strive 
Out of presence 
Of my defence 
Toward my death I drive. 

Heartless, alas ! what man 
May long endure ! 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 83 

Alas ! how live I then ; 

Since no recure 

May me assure 

My life I may well ban. • 

Thus doth my torment grow 
In deadly dread 
Alas ! who might live so ; 
Alive, as dead : 
Alive, to lead 
A deadly life in woe. 



THE LOVER WHO CANNOT PREVAIL MUST 
NEEDS HAVE PATIENCE. 

Patience for my device ; 
Impatience for your part ! 
Of contraries the guise 
Must needs be overthwart. 
Patience ! for I am true ; 
The contrary for you. 

Patience ! a good cause why ! 
You have no cause at all ; 
Trust me, that stands awry 
Perchance may sometime falL 
Patience then say, and sup 
A taste of Patience cup. 

Patience ! no force for that 
Yet brush your gown again. 



84 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Patience ! spurn not there at ; 
Lest folk perceive your pain. 
Patience at my pleasure, 
When yours hath no measure. 

The other was for me, 
This Patience is for you', 
Change when ye list let see, 
For I have ta'en a new. 
Patience with a good will 
Is easy to fulfil. 



WHEN FORTUNE SMILES NOT, ONLY 
PATIENCE COMFORTETH. 

Patience ! though I have not 
The thing that I require ; 
I must, of force, God wot. 
Forbear my most desire. 
For no ways can I find 
To sail against the wind. 

Patience ! do what they will 
To work me woe or spite ; 
I shall content me still 
To think both day and night ; 
To think, and hold my peace. 
Since there is no redress. 

Patience ! withouten blame. 
For I offended nought ; 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 85 

I know they know the same, 
Though they have changed their thought. 
Was ever thought so moved, 
To hate that it hath loved ? 
Patience of all my harm, 
For Fortune is my foe ; 
Patience must be the charm 
To heal me of my woe. 
Patience without offence 
Is a painful Patience. 



• — ♦■ 



THAT PATIENCE ALONE CAN HEAL THE 
WOUND INFLICTED BY ADVERSITY. 

Patience of all my smart ! 
For Fortune is turned awry : 
Patience must ease my heart, 
That mourns continually. 
Patience to suffer wrong 
Is a Patience too long. 

Patience to have a nay, 
Of that I most desire ; 
Patience to have alway, 
And ever bum like fire. 
Patience without desart 
Is grounder of my smart. 

Who can with merry heart 






86 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Set forth some pleasant song, 
That always feels but smart, 
And never hath but wrong ? 
Yet patience evermore 
Must heal the wound and sore. 

Patience ! to be content, ► 
With fro ward Fortune's train ! 
Patience, to the intent 
Somewhat to slake my pain : 
I see no remedy, 
But suffer patiently. 

To plain where is none ear 
My chance is chanced so ; 
For it doth well appear 
My Friend is turn'd my foe : 
But since there is no defence^ 
I must take Patience. 



THE LOVER, 

HOPELESS OF GREATER HAPPI>fESS, CONTENTETH 
HIMSELF WITH ONLY PITY. 

Tho' I cannot your cruelty constrain, 
For my good will to favour me again ; 
Though my true and faithftil love 
Have no power your heart to move. 
Yet rue upon my pain ! 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 87 

Tho' I jour thrall must evermore remain, 
And for jour sake mj libertj restrain ; 
The greatest grace that I do crave 
Is that je would vouchsave 

To rue upon m j pain ! 
Though I have not deserved to obtain 
So high reward, but thus to serve in vain, 
Though I shall have no redress, 
Yet of right je can no less. 

But rue upon mj pain ! 
But I see well, that jour high disdain 
Will no wise grant that I shall more attain ; 
Yet je must grant at the last 
This m J poor, and small request ; 

Rejoice not at mj pain ! 



THAT TIME, HUMBLENESS, AND PRAYER, 

CAN SOFTEN EVERY THING SAVE HIS 
LAI>Y*S HEART. 

Process of time worketh such wonder, 
That water which is of kind so soft, 
Doth pierce the marble stone asunder, 
B J little drops falling from aloft. 

And jet a heart that seems so tender, 
Receiveth no drop of the stilling tears 
That alwaj still cause me to render, • 
The vain plaint that sounds not in her ears. 



88 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

So cruel, alas ! is nought alive, 
So fierce, so froward, so out of frame, 
But some way, some time may so contrive 
By means the wild to temper and tame. 

And I that always have sought, and seek 
Each place, each time for some lucky day, 
This fierce tiger, less I find her meek. 
And more denied the longer I pray. 

The lion in his raging furour 
Forbears that sueth, meekness for his [boot] ; 
And thou, alas ! in extreme dolour, 
The heart so low thou treads under thy foot. 

Each fierce tiling, lo ! how thou dost exceed. 
And hides it under so humble a face ! 
And yet the humble to help at need 
Nought helpeth time, humbleness, nor place. 



THAT UNKINDNESS HATH SLAIN HIS POOR 
TRUE HEART. 

If in the world there be more woe 
Than I have in my heart ; 
Whereso it is, it doth come fro', 
And in my breast there doth it grow. 
For to increase my smart. 
Alas ! I am receipt of every care ; 
And of my life each sorrow claims his part. 
Who list to live in quietness 



SIR THOMAS AVYATt's POEMS. 89 

By me let him beware. 
For I by high disdain 
Am made without redress ; 
And unkindness, alas ! hath slain 
My poor true heart, all comfortless. 



THE DYING LOVER COMPLAINETH 

THAT HIS MISTRESS REGARDETH NOT HIS SUFFERINGS. 

Like as the swan towards her death 
Doth strain her voice with doleful note ; 
Right so sing I with waste of breath, 
I die ! I die ! and you regard it not. 

I shall enforce my fainting breath, 
That all that hears this deadly note, 
Shall know that you dost cause my death, 
I die ! I die ! and you regard it not. 

Your unkindness hath sworn my death, 
And changed hath my pleasant note 
To painful sighs that stop my breath. 
I die ! I die ! and you regard it not. 

Consumeth my life, faileth my breath. 
Your fault is forger of this note ; 
Melting in tears a cruel death. 
I die ! I die ! and you regard it not. 

My faith with me after my death 
Buried shall be, and to this note 
I do bequeath my weary breath 
To cry, I die ! and you regard it not. 



90 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE CAREFUL LOVER COMPLAINETH, AND 
THE HAPPY LOVER COUNSELLETH. 

Ah! Robin! 

Joly Robin ! 

Tell me how thy Leman doth ? 

And thou shalt know of mine. 

' My Lady is unkind, perdie ! ' 

Alack, why is she so ! 

' She loveth an other better than me, 

And yet she will say, no.' 

RESPONSE. 

I find no such doubleness ; 
I find women true. 
My lady loveth me doubtless. 
And will change for no new. 

LE PLAINTIF. 

Thou art happy while that doth last, 
But I say as I find ; 
That woman's love is but a blast. 
And turneth like the wind. 

RESPONSE. 

But if thou wilt avoid thy harm. 
Learn this lesson of me ; 
At others fires thyself to warm, 
And let them warm with thee. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 91 



LE PLAINTIF. 

Such folks shall take no harm by love, 
That can abide their turn ; 
But I, alas, can no way prove 
In love, but lack, and mourn 



l^jlU^ 



THE LOVER HAVING BROKEN HIS BONDAGE, 

VOWETH NEVER MORE TO BE ENTHRALLED. 

In aeternum I was once determed, 

For to have loved and my mind affirmed. 

That with my heart it should be confirmed, 

In geternum. 
Forthwith I found the thing that I might like, 
And sought with love to warm her heart alike, 
For as me thought I should not see the like, 

In aeternum. 
To trace this dance I put myself in press. 
Vain Hope did lead, and bade I should not cesse, 
To serve to suffer, and still to hold my peace 

In aeternum. 
With this first rule I furtherd me a pace. 
That as me thought my truth had taken place. 
With full assurance to stand in her grace. 

In aeternum. 
It was not long ere I by proof had found 
That feeble building is on feeble ground. 
For in her heart this word did never sound 

In aeternum. 



92 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

In aeternum then from my heart I cest 
That, I had first determined for the best, 
Now in the place another thought doth rest, 
In aeternum. 



THE ABUSED LOVER ADMONISHES THE 
UNWARY TO BEWARE OF LOVE. 

Lo ! what it is to love ! 
Learn ye that list to prove 
At me, I say ; 
No ways that may 
The grounded grief remove, 
My life alway 
That doth decay ; 
Lo I what it is to love. 

Flee alway from the snare : 
Learn by me to beware 
Of such a train 
Which doubles pain, 
And endless woe, and care 
That doth retain ; 
Which to refrain 
Flee alway from the snare. 

To love, and to be wise, 
To rage with good advice ; 
Now thus, now than, 
Now off, now an. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 93 

Uncertain as the dice ; 
There is no man 
At once that can 
To love axid to be wise. 

Such are the divers throes, 
Such that no man knows 
That hath not provM 
And once have lov'd ; 
Such are the raging woes 
Sooner reprov'd 
Than well remov'd. 
Such are the divers throes. 

Love is a fervent fire 
Kindled by hot desire ; 
For a short pleasure 
Long displeasure, 
Repentance is the hire ; 
A poor treasure. 
Without measure ; 
Love is a fervent fire. 
Lo ! what it is to love ! 



A REPROOF TO SUCH AS SLANDER LOVE. 

Leave thus to slander love ! 
Though evil with such it prove. 
Which often use 
Love to misuse, 



94 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

And loving to reprove ; 
Such cannot choose 
For their refuse 
But thus to slander Love. 

Flee not so much the snare ! 
Love seldom causeth care. 
But by deserts 
And crafty parts 
Some lose their own welfare. ^ 
Be true of heart ; 
And for no smart, 
Flee not so much the snare. 

To love, and not to be wise, 
Is but a mad device ; 
Such love doth last 
As sure and fast. 
As chance on the dice, 
A bitter taste 
Comes at the last, 
To love, and not to be wise. 

Such be the pleasant days, 
Such be the honest ways, 
There is no man 
That fully can 
Know it, but he that says 
Loving to ban 
Were folly tlien ; 
Such be the pleasant days. 

Love is a pleasant fire 
Kindled by true desire ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 95 

And though the pain 
Cause men to plain, 
Speed well is oft the hire. 
Then though some feign 
And lose the gain, 
Love is a pleasant fire. 

Who most doeth slander love, 
The deed must alway prove. 
Truth shall excuse 
That you accuse 
For slander, and reprove. 
Not by refuse, 
But by abuse. 
You most do slander love ! 

Ye grant "it is a snare, 
And would us not beware. 
Lest that your train 
Should be too plain 
Ye colour all the care ; 
Lo ! how you feign 
Pleasure for pain. 
And grant it is a snare. 

To love, and to be wis^e, 
It were a strange device : 
But from that taste 
Ye vow the fast. 

On cinques though run your dice, 
Ambsace may haste 
Your pain to waste. 
To love and to be wise. 



96 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Of all such pleasant days, 
Of all such pleasant plays, 
Without desart. 
You have your part, 
And all the world so says ; 
Save that poor heart 
That for more smart, 
Feeleth not such pleasant days. 

Such fire, and such heat. 
Did never make ye sweat ; 
For without pain 
You best obtain 
Too good speed, and too great. 
.Whoso doeth plain 
You best do feign, 
Such fire, and such heat. 
Who now doth slander Love ? 



DESPAIR COUNSELLETH THE DESERTED 

LOVER TO END HIS WOES BY DEATH, BUT 
REASON BRINGETH COMFORT. 

Most wretched heart ! most miserable, 
Since thy comfort is from thee fled ; 
Since all thy truth is turned to fable 
Most wretched heart ! why art thou not dead ? 

' No ! no ! I live, and must do still ; 
Whereof I thank God, and no mo ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 97 

For I myself have at my will. 

And he is wretched that weens him so.' 

But yet thou hast both had and lost 
The hope, so long that hath thee fed. 
And all thy travail, and thy cost ; 
Most wretched heart ! why art thou not dead ? 

' Some other hope must feed me new : 
If I have lost, I say what tho ! 
Despair shall not therewith ensue ; 
For he is wretched, that weens him so.' 

The sun, the moon doth frown on thee 
Thou hast darkness in daylight stead : 
As good in grave, as so to be ; 
Most wretched heart ! why art thou not dead ? 

' Some pleasant star may shew me light ; 
But though the heaven would work me woe, 
Who hath himself shall stand upright ; 
And he is wretched that weens him so.' 

Hath he himself that is not sure ? 
His trust is like as he hath sped. 
Against the stream thou mayst not dure ; 
Most wretched heart ! why art thou not dead ? 

' The last is worst : who fears not that 
He hath himself whereso he go : . 
And he that knoweth what is what, 
Saith he is wretched that weens him so.' 

Seest thou not how they whet their teeth, 
Which to touch thee sometime did dread ? 
They find comfort, for thy mischief, 
Most wretched heart ! why art thou not dead ? 

7 



98 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

What though that curs do fall by kind 
On him that hath the overthrow ; 
All that cannot oppress my mind ; 
For he is wretched that weens him so.' 

Yet can it not be then denied, 
It is as certain as thy creed, 
Thy great unhap thou canst not hide ; 
Unhappy then ! why art thou not dead ? 

' Unhappy ; but no wretch therefore ! 
For hap doth come again, and go, 
For which I keep myself in store ; 
Since unhap cannot kill me so.' 



THE LOVER'S LUTE CANNOT BE BLAMED 

THOUGH IT SING OF HIS LADY'S UNKINDNESS. 

Blame not my Lute ! for he must sound 
Of this or that as liketh me ; 
For lack of wit the Lute is bound 
To give such tunes as pleaseth me ; 
Though my songs be somewhat strange. 
And speak such words as touch thy change, 

Blame not my Lute ! 
My Lute ! alas ! doth not offend. 
Though that perforce he must agree 
To sound such tunes as I intend. 
To sing to them that heareth me ; 
Then though my songs be somewhat plain, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 99 

And toucheth some that use to feign, 

Blame not my Lute ! 
My Lute and strings may not deny, 
But as I strike they must obey ; 
Break not them then so wrongfully, 
But wreak thyself some other way ; 
And though the. songs which I indite 
Do quit thy change with rightful spite, 

Blame not my Lute ! 
Spite asketh spite, and changing change. 
And falsed faith must needs J)e known ; 
The faults so great, the cause so strange ; 
Of right it must abroad be blown : 
Then since that by thine own desert 
My songs do tell how true thou art, 

Blame not my Lute ! 
Blame but thyself tliat hast misdone, 
And well deserved to have blame ; 
Change thou thy way, so evil begone, 
And then my Lute shall sound that same ; 
But if 'till then my fingers play. 
By thy desert their wonted way, 

Blame not my Lute ! 
Farewell ! unknown ; for though thou break 
My strings in spite with great disdain. 
Yet have I found out for thy sake. 
Strings for to string my Lute again : 
And if, perchance, this sely rhyme 
Do make thee blush, at any time. 

Blame not my Lute ! 



100 SIR TH03IA3 WYATT S POE^IS. 



THE NEGLECTED LOVER 

CALLETH ON HIS PEN TO RECORD THE UNGENTLB 
BEHAVIOUR OF HIS UNKIND MISTRESS. 

My pen ! take pain a little space 
To follow that which doth me chase, 
And hath in hold my heart so sore ; 
But when thou hast this brought to pass, 
Mj pen ! I prithee write no more. 

Remember oft thou hast me eased, 
And all my pains full well appeased. 
But now I know, unknowTi before, 
For where I trust, I am deceived ; 
And yet, my pen ! thou can'st no more. 

A time thou haddest as other have 
To write which way my hope to crave ; 
That tune is past, withdraw, therefore : 
Since we do lose that others have. 
As good leave off and write no more. 

In worth to use another way ; 
Not as we would, but as we may. 
For once my loss is past restore, 
And my desire is my decay ; 
My pen ! yet write a little more. 

To love in vain, who ever shall 
Of worldly pain it passeth all. 
As in like case I find ; wherefore 
To hold so fast, and yet to fall ! 
Alas I my pen, now write no more. 



SIR TEOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 101 

Since thou hast taken pain this space 
To follow that which doth me chace. 
And hath in hold my heart so sore. 
Now hast thou brought my mind to pass. 
My pen ! I prithee write no more. 



THAT CAUTION SHOULD BE USED IN LOVE 

Take heed by time, lest ye be spied : 
Your loving eyes can it not hide, 
At last the truth will sure be tried ; 

Therefore, take heed ! 
For some there be of crafty kind, 
Though you show no part of your mind, 
Surely their eyes can ye not blind ; 

Therefore, take heed ! 
For in like case theirselves hath been, 
And thought right sure none had them seen, 
But it was not as they did ween, 

Therefore, take heed ! 
Although they be of divers schools. 
And well can use all crafty tools. 
At length they prove themselves but fools. 

Therefore, take heed ! 
If they might take you in that trap, 
They would soon leave it in your lap ; 
To love unspied is but a hap ; 

Therefore, take heed ! 



1)2 sill tuojias wyatt's poems. 



AN EARNEST REQUEST 

TO HIS CRUEL MISTRESS EITHER TO PITY HIM, OR 
LET HIM DIE. 



At last withdraw your cruelty, 
Or let me die at once ; 
It is too much extremity, 
Devised for the nonce, 
To hold me thus alive, 
In pain still for to drive : 
What may I more sustain, 
Alas ! that die would fain. 
And cannot die for pain ? 

For to the flame wherewith ye bum, 
My thought and my desire, 
When into ashes it should turn 
My heart, by fervent fire. 
Ye send a stormy rain 
That doth it quench again, 
And make mine eyes express, 
The tears that do redress 
My life, in wretchedness. 

Then when these should have drown'd, 
And overwhelm'd my heart. 
The heart doth them confound, 
Renewing all my smart ; 
Then doth flame increase. 
My torment cannot cease ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 103 

M-y woe doth then revive, 

And I remain alive, 

With death still for to strive. 

But if that ye would have my death, 
And that ye would -none other, 
Shortly then for to spend my breath, 
Withdraw the one, or t' other ; 
For thus your cruelness 
Doth let itself doubtless ; 
And it is reason why ! 
No man alive, nor I, I 

Of double death can die. 



THE ABUSED LOVER REPROACHETH HIS 
FALSE MISTRESS OF DISSIMULATION. 

To wet your eye withouten tear. 
And in good health to feign disease, 
That you thereby mine eyen might blear, 
Therewith your other friends to please ; 
And though ye think ye need not fear. 
Yet so ye can not me appease ; 
But as ye list fawn, flatter, or glose. 
Ye shall not win, if I do lose. 

Prate, and paint, and spare not. 
Ye know I can me wreak ; 
And if so be ye can so not. 
Be sure I do not reck ; 



104 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

And though ye swear it were not, 

I can both swear and speak 

By God, and by this cross, 

If I have the mock, ye shall have the loss. 



HE BEWAILS HIS HARD FATE' THAT THOUGH 

BELOVED OF HIS MISTRESS HE STILL LIVES IN PAIN. 

I LOVE, loved ; and so doth she, 
And yet in love we suffer still ; 
The cause is strange as seemeth me. 
To love so well, and want our wiU. 

! deadly yea ! O ! grievous smart ! 
Worse than refuse, unhappy gain ! 
In love who ever play'd this part. 
To love so well, and live in pain. 

Were ever hearts so well agreed. 
Since love was love as I do trow ; 
That in their love so evil did speed. 
To love so well, and live in woe. 

Thus mourn we both, and hath done long, 
With woful plaint and careful voice ; 
Alas ! it is a grievous wrong, 
To love so well, and not rejoice. 

Send here an end of all our moan. 
With sighing oft my breath is scant ; 
Since of mishap ours is alone, 
'^o love so well, and yet to want. 



Sm THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 105 

But they that causers be of this. 
Of all our cares God send them part ; 
That they may know what grief it is, 
To love so well, and live in smart. 



A COMPLAINT OF THE FALSENESS OF LOVE. 

It is a grievous smart, 
To suffer pain and sorrow ; 
But most grieveth my heart. 
He laid his faith to borrow ; 
And falsehood hath his faith and troth. 
And he foresworn by many an oath. 

All ye lovers, perdie ! 
Hath cause to blame his deed. 
Which shall example be. 
To let you of your speed ; 
Let never woman again 
Trust to such words as man can feign. 

For I unto my cost 
Am warning to you all ; 
That they whom you trust most 
Soonest deceive you shall ; 
But complaint cannot redress. 
Of my great grief the great excess. 

Farewell ! all my welfare ! 
My shoe is trod awry. 
Now may I cark and care, 



106 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

To sing lullaby ! lullaby ! 
Alas ! what shall I do thereto ? 
There is no shift to help me now. 

Who made it such offence, 
To love for love again ; 
God wot ! that my pretence 
Was but to ease his pain ; 
For I had ruth to see his woe : 
Alas ! more fool ! why did I so ! 

For he from me is gone, 
And makes thereat a game ; 
And hath left me alone, 
To suffer sorrow and shame ; 
Alas I he is unkind doubtless, 
To leave me thus all comfortless. 



THE LOVER SUETH THAT HIS SERVICE MAY 
BE ACCEPTED. 

The heart and service to you proffer'd 
With right good will full honestly. 
Refuse it not since it is offered. 
But take it to you gentlely. 

And though it be a small present, 
Yet good, consider graciously, 
The thought, the mind, and the intent 
Of him that loves you faithfully. 

It were a thing of small effect 
To work my woe thus cruelly ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 107 

For mj good will to be object, 
Therefore accept it lovingly. 

Pain, or travail; to run, or ride, 
I undertake it pleasantly ; 
Bid ye me go and straight I glide. 
At your commandment humbly. 

Pain or pleasure now may you plant, 
Even which it please you steadfastly ; 
Do which you list, I shall not want 
To be your servant secretly. 

And since so much I do desire. 
To be your own assuredly ; 
For all my service, and my hire 
Reward your servant liberally. 



OF THE PAINS AND SORROWS CAUSED 
BY LOVE. 

What meaneth this ! when I lie alone 

I toss, I turn, I sigh, I groan ; 

My bed me seems as hard as stone : 

^Tiat means this ? 
I sigh, I plain continually ; 
The clothes that on my bed do lie, 
Always me think they lie awry ; 

What means this ? 
In slumbers oft for fear I quake ; 

For heat and cold I bum and shake ; i 

For lack of sleep my head doth ake ; 

What means this ? 



108 SIR THOMAS AVYATT's POEMS. 

A mornings then when I do rise, 
I turn unto my wonted guise, 
All day after muse and devise ; 

What means this ? 
And if perchance by me there pass, 
She, unto whom I sue for grace, 
The cold blood forsaketh my face ; 

What means this ? 
But if I sit near her by, 
With loud voice my heart doth cry. 
And yet my mouth is dumb and dry ; 

What means this ? 
To ask for help no heart I have ; 
My tongue doth fail what I should crave ; 
Yet inwardly I rage and rave ; 

What means this ? 
Thus have I passed many a year, 
And many a day, though nought appear, 
But most of that that most I fear ; 

What means this ? 



THE LOVER RECOUNTETH THE VARIABLE 
FANCY OF HIS FICKLE MISTRESS. 

Is it possible ? 
That so high debate. 
So sharp, so sore, and of such rate. 
Should end so soon, and was begun so late. 

Is it possible ? 



SIR THOMAS Hyatt's poems. 109 

Is it possible ? 
So cruel intent, 

So hasty heat, and so soon spent, 
From love to hate, and thence for to relent. 
Is it possible ? 

Is it possible ? 
That any may find, 
Within one heart so diverse mind, 
To change or turn as weather and wind, 
Is it possible ? 

Is it possible ? 
To spy it in an eye, 
That turns as oft as chance or die. 
The truth whereof can any try ; 
Is it possible ? 

It is possible. 
For to turn so oft;; 

To bring that low'st that was most aloft ; 
And to fall hio:hest, vet to liojht soft ; 
It is possible I 

All is possible ! 
Whoso list believe, 
Trust therefore first and after preve ; 
As men wed ladies by license and leave ; 
All is possible ! 



110 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE ABUSED LOVER. 

BEWAII^S THE TIME THAT EVER HIS EYE BEHELD HER TO 
WHOM HE HAD GIVEN HIS FAITHFUL HEART. 

Alas ! poor man, what hap have I, 
That must forbear that I love best ! 
I trow, it be my destiny. 
Never to live in quiet rest. 

No wonder is though I complain ; 
Not without cause ye may be sure ; 
I seek for that I cannot attain, 
Which is my mortal displeasure. 

Alas ! poor heart, as in this case 
With pensive plaint thou art opprest ; 
Unwise thou were to desire place 
Whereas another is possest. 

Do wlmt I can to ease thy smart, 
Thou wilt not let to love her still ; 
Hers, and not mine I see thou art ; 
Let her do by thee as she will. 

A careful carcass full of pain 
Now hast thou left to mourn for thee, 
The heart once gone, the body is slain, 
That ever I saw her woe is me ; 

Mine eye, alas ! was cause of this, 
Which her to see had never his fill ; 
To rae that sight full bitter is. 
In recompense of my good will. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. Ill 

She that I serve all other above 
Hath paid my hire, as ye may see ; 
I was unhappy, and that I prove, 
To love above my poor degree. 



1/ 



AN EARNEST SUIT TO HIS UNKIND MISTRESS 

NOT TO FORSAKE HIM. 

^' 
And wilt thou leave me thus? 

Say nay ! say nay ! for shame ! x 

To save thee from the blamcA' 

Of all my grief and grame. -"' 

And wilt thou leave me thus ^ 

Say nay ! say nay ! 

And wilt thou leave me thus ?^' 
That hath lov'd thee so long ? , 
In wealth and woe among : 
And is thy heart so strong- 
As for to leave me thus ?y 
Say nay ! say nay ! 

And wilt thou leave me thus ? 
That hath given thee my heart 
Never for to depart ; 
Neither for pain nor smart : 
And wilt thou leave me thus? 
Say nay ! say nay ! 

And wilt thou leave me thus, 
And have no more pity, 



112 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Of him that loveth thee ? 
Alas ! thj cruelty ! 
And wilt thou leave me thus ? 
Say nay ! say nay ! 



HE REMEMBERETH THE PROMISE HIS LADY 

ONCE GAVE HIM OF AFFECTION, AND COMFORTETH 
HIMSELF WITH HOPE. 

That time that mirth did steer my ship, 
Which now is fraught with heaviness 
• And Fortune beat not then the lip, 
But was defence of my distress. 
Then in my book wrote my mistress ; 
* I am yours, you may well be sure ; 
And shall be while my life doth dure.' 

But she herself which then wrote that 
Is now mine extreme enemy ; 
Above all men she doth me hate, 
Rejoicing of my misery. 
But though that for her sake I die, 
I shall be hers, she may be sure. 
As long as my life doth endure. 

It is not time that can wear out 
With me that once is firmly set ; 
While Nature keeps her course about 
My love from her no man can let. 
Though never so sore they me threat, 



SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 113 

» 

Yet am I hers, she may be sure ; 
And shall be while that life doth dure. 

And once I trust to- see that day, 
Renewer of my joy and wealth, 
That she to me these words shall say ; 
'In faith! welcome to me myself! 
Welcome my joy ! welcome my health, 
For I am thine, thou mayst be sure. 
And shall be while that life doth dure.' 

Aye me ! alas ! what words were these ! 
Incontinent I might find them so I 
I reck not what smart or disease 
I suffered, so that I might know 
[After my passed pain and woe] 
That she were mine ; and might be sure 
She should be while that life doth dure. 



THAT ALL fflS JOY DEPEXDETH ON HIS 
LADY^S FAVOUR. 

As power and wit will me assist. 
My will shall will even as ye list. 
For as ye list my will is bent 
In every thing to be content, 
To serve in love 'till life be spent ; 
So you reward my love thus meant, 
Even as ye list. 
8 



114 3IR THOMAS WYATTS POEMS. 

To feign, or fable is not my mind, 
Nor to refuse such as I find ; 
But as a lamfe of humble kind, 
Or bird in cage to be assigned, 

Even as ye list. 
When all the flock is come and gone 
Mine eye and heart agree'th in one, 
Hath chosen you, only, alone. 
To be my joy, or else my moan, 

Even as ye list. 
Joy, if pity appear in place ; 
Moan, if disdain do shew his face, 
Yet crave I not as in this case, 
But as ye lead to follow the trace, 

Even as ye list. 
Some in words much love can feign ; 
And some for words give words again : 
Thus words for words in words remain, 
And yet at last words do obtain 

Even as ye list. 
To crave in words I will eschew. 
And love in deed I will ensue ; 
It is my mind both whole and true. 
And for my truth I pray you rue 

Even as ye list. 
Dear heart ! I bid your heart farewell, 
With better heart than tongue can tell ; 
Yet take this tale, as true as gospel, 
Ye may my life save or expel 

Even as ye list. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 115 



HE PROMISETH TO REMAIN FAITHEUL 
WHATEVER FORTUNE BETIDE. 

Sometime I sigh, sometime I sing ; 
Sometime I laugh, sometime mourning 
As one in doubt, this is my saying ; 
Have I displeas'd you in any thing ? 

Alack ! what aileth you to be griev'd ? 
Right sorry am I that ye be moved. 
I am your own, if truth be prov'd ; 
And by your displeasure as one mischieVd. 

When ye be merry then am I glad ; 
When ye be sorry then am I sad; 
Such grace or fortune I would I had 
You for to please howe'er I were bestad. 

When ye be merry why should I care ? 
Ye are my joy, and my welfare, 
I will you love, I will not spare 
Into- your presence, as far as I dare. 

All my poor heart, and my love true, 
While life doth last I give it you ; 
And you to serve with service due, 
And never to change you for no new. 



116 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE FAITHFUL LOVER WISHETH ALL EVIL 

MAY BEFALL HIM IF HE FORSAKE HIS LADY. 

The knot which first my heart did strain, 
When tliat your servant I became, 
Doth bind me still for to remain, 
Always your own as now I am ; 
And if you find that I do feign, 
With just judgment myself I damn. 

To have disdain. 
If other thought in me do grow 
But still to love you steadfastly ; 
If that the proof do not well shew 
That I am yours assuredly ; 
Let ev'ry wealth turn me to woe. 
And you to be continually 

My chiefest foe. 
If other love, or new request, 
Do seize my heart, but only this ; 
Or if within my wearied breast 
Be hid one thought that means amiss, 
I do desire that mine unrest 
May still increase, and I to miss 

That I love best. 
If in my love there be one spot 
Of false deceit or doubleness ; 
Or if I mind to slip this knot 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 117 

By want of faith or steadfastness ; 

Let all my service be forgot. 

And when I would have chief redress, 

Esteem me not. 
But if that I consume in pain 
Of burning sighs and fervent love ; 
And daily seek none other gain, 
But with my deed these words to prove ; 
Me think of right I should obtain 
That ye would mmd for to remove 

Your great disdain. 
And for the end of this my song. 
Unto your hands I do submit 
My deadly grief, and pains so strong 
Which in my heart be firmly shytt. 
And when ye list, redress my wrong : 
Since well ye know this painful fit 

Hath last too long. 



OF fortuist:, love, and fantasy. 

It was my choice ; it was no chance 
That brought my heart in other's hold ; 
Whereby it hath had sufferance 
Longer, perdie, than reason would. 
Since I it bound where it was free 
Methinks, y-wis, of right it should 
Accepted be. 



I 



118 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

Accepted be without refuse ; 
Unless that Fortune have the power 
All right of love for to abuse. 
For as they say one happy hour 
May more prevail than right or might ; 
If Fortune then list for to lower, 

What 'vaileth right? 
What Vaileth right if this be true ! 
Then trust to chance, and go by guess ; 
Then who so loveth may well go sue 
Uncertain hope for his redress. 
Yet some would say assuredly 
Thau mayst appeal for thy release 

To Fantasy. 
To Fantasy pertains to choose. 
All this I know : for Fantasy 
First unto love did me induce ; 
But yet I know as steadfastly. 
That if love have no faster knot, 
So nice a choice slips suddenly ; 

It lasteth not. 
It lasteth not, that stands by change ; 
Fancy doth change ; Fortune is frail ; 
Both these to please the way is strange. 
Therefore methinks best to prevail, 
There is no way that is so just 
As truth to lead ; the other fail, 

And thereto trust. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 119 

DESEKTED BY HIS MISTRESS, HE 

RENOUNCETH ALL JOY FOR EVER. 

Heart oppress'd with desperate thought, 
Is forced ever to lament ; 
Which now in me so far hath wrought, 
That needs to it I must consent : 
Wherefore all joy I do refuse, 
And cruel will thereof accuse. ^ 

If cruel will had not been guide, 
Despair in me had [found] no place ; 
For my true meaning she well espied ; 
Yet for all that would give no grace ; 
Wherefore all joy I do refuse, 
And cruel will thereof accuse. i/ 

She might well see, and yet would not ; 
And may daily, if that she wiU ; 
How painful is my hapless lot ; 
Joined with despair me for to spill ; 
Wherefore all joy I do refuse, 
And cruel will thereof accuse. ^ 



THAT NO WORDS MAY EXPRESS THE CRAFTY 
TRAINS OF LOVE. 

Full well it may be seen 
To such as understand. 
How some there be that ween 
They have their wealth at hand : 
Through love's abused band 



120 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

But little do they see 

The abuse wherein they be. 

Of love there is a kind 
Which kindleth by abuse ; 
As in a feeble mind 
Whom fancy may induce 
By love's deceitful use, 
To follow the fond lust 
And proof of a vain trust. 

As I myself may say, 
By trial of the same ; 
No wight can well bewray 
That falsehood love can frame ; 
I say, 'twixt grief and game. 
There is no living man 
That knows the craft love can. 

For love so well can feign 
To favour for the while ; 
That such as seeks the gain 
Are served with the guile ; 
And some can this concile 
To give the simple leave 
Themselves for to deceive. 

What thing may more declare 
Of love the crafty kind, 
Than see the wise so ware. 
In love to be so blind ; 
If so it be assigned ; 
Let them enjoy the gain. 
That thinks it worth the pain. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 121 



THAT THE POWEE OE LOVE EXCUSETH 
THE EOLLY OE LOVING. 

Since love is such as that ye wot 
. Cannot always be wisely used ; 
I say therefore then blame me not, 
Though I therein have been abused. 
For as with cause I am accused, 
Guilty I grant such was my lot ; 
And though it cannot be excused, 
Yet let such folly be forgot. 

For in my years of reckless youth 
Methought the power of love so great ; 
That to his laws I bound my truth, 
And to my will there was no let. 
Me list no more so far to fet ; 
Such fruit ! lo ! as of love ensu'th ; 
The gain was small that was to oret, 
And of the loss the less the ruth. 

And few there is but first or last, 
A time in love once shall they have ; 
And glad I am my time is past, 
Henceforth my freedom to withsave. 
Now in my heart there shall I grave 
The granted grace that now I taste ; 
Thanked be fortune that me gave 
So fair a gift, so sure and fast 



122 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Now such as have me seen ere this, 
When youth in me set forth his*kind ; 
And folly framed my thought amiss, 
The fault whereof now well I find ; 
Lo I since that so it is assign'd. 
That unto each a time there is, 
Then blame the lot that led my mind. 
Some time to live in love's bliss. 

But from henceforth I do protest. 
By proof of that that I have past, 
Shall never cease within my breast 
The power of Love so late outcast : 
The knot thereof is knit full fast, 
And I thereto so sure profess'd 
For evermore with me to last 
The power wherein I am possessed. 



THE DOUBTFUL LOVER 

BESOLVETH TO BE ASSURED WHETHER HE IS TO LIVE 
IN JOY OR WOE. 

Lo ! how I seek and sue to have 
That no man hath, and may be had ; 
There is [no] more but sink or save. 
And bring this doubt to good or bad. 
To live in sorrows always sad, 
I hke not so to linger forth ; 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 123 

Hap evil or good I shall be glad 
To take that comes, as well in worth. 

Should I sustain this great distress, 
Still wandering forth thus to and fro, 
In dreadful hope to hold my peace, 
And feed myself with secret woe ? 
Nay ! nay ! certain, I will not so ! 
But sure I shall myself apply 
To put in proof this doubt to know, 
And rid this danger readily. 

I shall assay by secret suit 
To shew the mind of mine intent ; 
And my deserts shall give such fruit 
As with my heart my words be meant ; 
So by the proof of this consent 
Soon out of doubt I shall be sure. 
For to rejoice, or to repent. 
In joy, or pain for to endure. 



OF THE EXTREME TORMENT ENDURED BY 
THE UNHAPPY LOVER. 

My love is hke unto th' eternal fire. 
And I, as those which therein do remain ; 
Whose grievous pains is but their great desire 
To see the sight which they may not attain : 
So in hell's heat myself I feel to be. 



124 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

That am restrain'd by great extremity, 
The sight of her which is so dear to me. 
! puissant Love ! and power of great avail ! 
By whom hell may be felt ere death assail ! 



HE BIDDETH FAREWELL TO HIS UNKIND 
MISTRESS. 

Since so ye please to hear me plain, 
And that ye do rejoice my smart ; 
Me list no longer to remain 
To such as be so overthwart : 

But cursed be that cruel heart 
Which hath procured a careless mind, 
For me and mine unfeigned smart ; 
And forceth me such faults to find. 

More than too much I am assured 
Of thine intent, whereto to trust ; 
A speedless proof I have endured ; 
And now I leave it to them that lust. 



iIE REPENTETH THAT HE HAD EVER LOVED. 

NoTV must I learn to live at rest. 
And wean me of my will ; 
Fo/* I repent where I was prest 
My fancy to fulfil. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 125 

I may no longer more endure 
My wonted life to lead ; 
But I must learn to put in ure 
The change of womanhed. 

I may not see my service long 
Rewarded in such wise ; 
Nor I may not sustain such wrong 
That ye my love despise. 

I may not sigh in sorrow deep, 
Nor wail the want of love ; 
Nor I may neither crouch nor creep 
Where it doth not behove. 

But I of force must needs forsake 
My faith so fondly set ; 
And from henceforth must undertake 
Such folly to forget. 

Now must I seek some other ways 
Myself for to withsave ; 
And as I trust by mine essays 
Some remedy to have. 

I ask none other remedy 
To recompense my wrong ; 
But once to have the Hberty 
That I have lack'd so long. 



126 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS NOT 

TO FORGET HIS STEADFAST FAITH* AND TRUE INTENT. 

Forget not yet the tried intent 
Of such a truth as I have meant ; 
My great travail so gladly spent, 

Forget not yet ! 
Forget not yet when first began 
The weary life ye know, since whan 
The suit, the service none tell can ; 

Forget not yet ! 
Forget not yet the great assays. 
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways, 
The painful patience in delays, 

Forget not yet ! 
Forget not ! oh ! forget not this, 
How long ago hath been, and is 
The mind that never meant amiss. 

Forget not yet ! 
Forget not then thine own approved, 
The which so long hath thee so lov'd, 
Whose steadfast faith yet never mov'd : » 

Forget not this ! 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 127 



HE BEWAILS THE PAIN HE ENDUKES WHEN 

BANISHED FROM THE MISTKESS OF HIS HEAJRT. 



•n. 



O ! MISERABLE sorrow, withouten cure 
If it please thee, lo ! to have me thus suffer, 
At least yet let her know what I endure,-^^'' 
And this my last voice carry thou thither, j' 
Where lived my hope, now dead for ever : 
For as ill grievous is my banishment, ^ 
As was my pleasure when she was presenlr 



HE COMPARES HIS SUFFERINGS TO THOSE 
OF TANTALUS. 

The fruit of all the service that I serve 
Despair doth reap ; such hapless hap have L 
But though he have no power to make me swerve. 
Yet by the fire for cold I feel I die. 
In paradise for hunger still I sterve, 
And in the flood for thirst to death I dry ; 
So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain, 
Amidst my help that helpless doth remain. 



128 SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 



THAT NOTHING MAY ASSUAGE HIS PAIN 
SAVE ONLY HIS LADY'S FAVOUR. 

If with complaint the pain might be express'd 
That inwardly doth cause me sigh and groan ; 
Y'our hard heart, and your cruel breast 
Should sigh and plain for my unrest ; 
And though it were of stone, 
Yet should remorse cause it relent and moan. 

But since it is so far out of measure, 
That with my words I can it not contain, 
My only trust ! my heart's treasure ! 
Alas ! why do I still endure 
This restless smart and pain ? 
Since if ye list ye may my woe restrain. 



THE LOVER PRAYETH 

THAT HIS LONG SUFFERINGS MAY AT LENGTH TOfD 
RECOMPENSE. 

Ye know my heart, my Lady dear ! 
That since the time I was your thrall 
I have been yours both whole and clear, 
Though my reward hath been but small; 
So am I yet, and more than all. 



. SIR THOIAS WYATT's POEMS. 129 

And ye know well how I have serv'd, 

As if ye prove it shall appear, 

How well, how long. 

How faithfuUy ! 

And suffered wrong, 

How patiently ! 

Then since that I have never swerv'd, 

Let not my pains be undeserv'd. 

Ye know also, though ye say nay, 
That you alone are my desire ; 
And you alone it is that may 
Assuage my fervent flaming fire. 
Succour me then I you require ! 
Ye know it were a just request, 
Since ye do cause my heat, I say, 
If that I bum. 
It will ye warm, 
And not to turn. 
All to my harm. 

Lending such flame from frozen breast 
Against nature for my unrest. 

And I know well how scornfully 
Ye have mistaken my true intent ; 
And hitherto how wrongfully, 
I have found cause for to repent. 
But if your heart doth not relent. 
Since I do know that this ye know, 
Ye shall slay me all wilfully. 
For me, and mine. 
And all I have, 



130 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

Ye may assign, 

To spill or save. 

Why are ye then so cruel foe 

Unto your own, that loves you so ? 



HE DESCRIBETH THE CEASELESS TORMENTS 
OF LOVE. 

Since you will needs that I shall sing, 
Take it in worth such as I have ; 
Plenty of plaint, moan, and mourning, 
In deep despair and deadly pain. 
Bootless for boot, crying to crave ; 

To crave in vain. 
Such hammers work within my head 
That sound nought else unto my ears. 
But fast at board, and wake a-bed : 
Such tune the temper to my song 
To wail my wrong, that I want tears 

To wail my wrong. 
Death and despair afore my face, 
My days decay, my grief doth grow ; 
The cause thereof is in this place, 
Whom cruelty doth still constrain 
For to rejoice, though I be woe. 

To hear me plain. 
A broken lute, untuned strings, 
With such a song may well bear part, 
That neither pleaseth him that sings, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 131 

Nor them that hear, but her alone 

That with her heart would strain my heart 

To hear it groan. 
If it grieve you to hear this same. 
That you do feel but in my voice. 
Consider then what pleasant game 
I do sustain in every part. 
To cause me sing or to rejoice 

Within my heart. 



THAT THE SEASON OF ENJOYMENT IS SHORT, 

AND SHOULD NOT PASS BY NEGLECTED. 

Me list no more to sing 
Of love, nor of such thing, 
How sore that it me wring ; 
For what I sung or spake. 
Men did my songs mistake. 

My songs were too diffuse ; 
They made folk to muse ; 
Therefore me to excuse. 
They shall be sung more plain, 
Neither of joy nor pain. 

What vaileth then to skip 
At fruit over the lip 



For fruit withouten taste 
Doth nought but rot and waste. 



132 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

What vaileth under kay 
To keep treasure alway, 
That never shall see day. 
If it be not used, 
It is but abused. 

What vaileth the flower 
To stand still and wither ; 
If no man it savour 
It serves only for sight, 
And fadeth towards night. 

Therefore fear not to assay 
To gather, ye that may, 
The flower that this day 
Is fresher than the next. 
Mark well I say this text : 

Let not the fruit be lost 
That is desired most ; 
Delight shall quite the cost. 
If it be ta'en in time 
Small labour is to climb. 

And as for such treasure 
That maketh thee the richer. 
And no deal the poorer 
When it is given or lent, 
. Methinks it were well spent. 

If this be under mist. 
And not well plainly wist, 
Understand me who list, 
For I reek not a bean ; 
I wot what I do mean. 



Sm THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 133 



THAT THE PAIN HE ENDURED SHOULD NOT 
MAKE HIM CEASE FROM LOVING. 

The joy so short, alas ! the pain so near 
The way so long, the departure so smart ; 
The first sight, alas ! I bought too dear, 
That so suddenly now from hence must part. 
The body gone yet remain shall the heart 
With her, the which for me salt tears doth rain ; 
And shall not change till that we meet again. 

The time doth pass, yet shall not my love ; 
Though I be far, always my heart is near. 
Though other change yet will not I remove ; 
Though other care not, yet love I will and fear ; 
Though other hate, yet wiU I love my dear ; 
Though other will of lightness say ' Adieu,' . 
Yet will I be found steadfast and true. 

When other laugh, alas ! then do I weep ; 
When other sing, then do I wail and cry ; 
When other run, perforced I am to creep ; 
When other dance, in sorrow I do lie ; 
When other joy, for pain well near I die ; 
Thus brought from wealth, alas ! to endless pain, 
That undeserved, causeless to remain. 



134 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



THE COMPLAINT OF A DESERTED LOVER, 

How should I 
Be so pleasant, 
In mj semblant, 
As my fellows be ? 

Not long ago, 
It chanced so. 
As I did walk alone ; 
I heard a man, 
That now and than 
Himself did thus bemoan : 

' Alas I ' he said, 
' I am betray'd. 
And utterly undone ; 
Whom I did trust, 
And think so just. 
Another man hath won. 

' My service due, 
And heart so true, 
On her I did bestow ; 
I never meant 
For to repent, 
In wealth, nor yet in woe. 

' Each western wind 
Hath turned her mind. 
And blown it clean away ; 
Thereby my wealth, 



Sm THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 135 

Mj mirth and health, 
Are driven to great decay. 

' Fortune did smile 
A right short while, 
And never said me nay ; 
With pleasant plays. 
And joyful days. 
My time to pass away. 

' Alas ! alas ! 
The time so was. 
So never shall it be, 
Since she is gone. 
And I alone 
Am left as you may see. 

^ Where is the oath ? 
Where is the troth ? 
That she to me did give ? 
Such feigned words, 
With sely bourds. 
Let no wise man believe. 

^ For even as I, 
Thus wofully. 
Unto myself complain : 
If ye then trust, 
Needs learn ye must. 
To sing my song in vain. 

' How should I 
Be so pleasant. 
In my semblant. 
As my fellows be ? ' 



136 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



THAT FAITH IS DEAD, AND TRUE LOVE 
DISREGARDED. 

What should I say ? 
Since Faith is dead, 
And Truth away 
From you is fled ? 
Should I be led 
With doubleness? 
Nay! nay! Mistress. 

I promised you, 
And you promised me. 
To be as true. 
As I would be. 
But since I see 
Your double heart. 
Farewell my part ! 

Thought for to take. 
It is not my mind ; 
But to forsake 
[One so unkind ;] 
And as I find, 
So will I trust ; 
Farewell, unjust ! 

Can ye say nay. 
But that you said 
That I alway 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 137 

Should be obej'd ? 
And thus betray'd. 
Or that I wist ! 
Farewell, unkist ! 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH THAT HIS 

FAITHFUL HEART AND TRUE MEANING HAD NEVER MET 
WITH JUST REWARD. 

Give place ! all ye that doth rejoice, 
And love's pangs hath clean forgot. 
Let them draw near and hear my voice 
Whom Love doth force in pains to fret ; 
For all of plaint my song is set, 
Which long hath served and nought can get. 

A faithful heart so truly meant. 
Rewarded is fall slenderly ; 
A steadfast faith with good intent 
Is recompensed craftily ; 
Such hap doth hap unhappily 
To them that mean but honestly. 

With humble suit I have essayed 
To turn her cruel hearted mind ; 
But for reward I am delayed. 
And to my wealth her ears be blind. 
Lo ! thus by chance I am assigned 
With steadfast love to serve the unkind. 



138 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

What vaileth truth, or steadfastness, 
Or still to serve without repreef ! 
What vaileth faith or gentleness, 
Where cruelty doth reign as chief! 
Alas ! there is no greater grief 
Than for to love, and lack relief. 

Care doth constrain me to complain 
Of Love, and her uncertainty, 
Which granteth nought but great disdain, 
For loss of all my liberty. 
Alas ! this is extremity, 
For love to find such cruelty. 

For love to find such cruelty 
Alas ! it is a careful lot ; 
And for to void such mockery 
There is no way but slip the knot ! 
The gain so cold, the pain so hot ! 
Praise it who list, I like it not. 



THE FORSAKEN LOVER 

CONSOLETH HIMSELF WITH REMEMBRANCE OF PAST 
HAPPINESS. 

Spite hath no power to make me sad, 
Nor scornfulness to make me plain. 
It doth suffice that once I had, 
And so to leave it is no pain. 

Let them frown on that least doth gain, 
Wlio did rejoice must needs be glad ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 139 

And though with words thou wee'nst to reign, 
It doth suffice that once I had. 

Since that in checks thus overthwart, 
And coyly looks thou dost delight ; 
It doth suffice that mine thou wert, 
Though change hath put thy faith to flight. 

Alas ! it is a peevish spite, 
To yield thyself and then to part ; 
But since thou force thy faith so light, 
It doth suffice that mine thou wert. 

And since thy love doth thus decline, 
And in thy heart such hate doth grow ; 
It doth suffice that thou wert mine. 
And with good will I quite it so. 

Sometime my friend, farewell my foe, 
Since thou change I am not thine ; 
But for rehef of all my woe. 
It doth suffice that thou wert mine. 

Praying you all that hear this song. 
To judge no wight, nor none to blame ; 
It doth suffice she doth me wrong, 
And that herself doth know the same. 

And though she change it is no shame. 
Their kind it is, and hath been long ; 
Yet I protest she hath no name ; 
It doth suffice she doth me wrong. 



140 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



HE COMPLAINETH TO HIS HEART 

THAT HAVING ONCE RECOVERED HIS FREEDOM HE HAD 
AGAIN BECOME THRALL TO LOVE. 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee ? 
To set so light my hberty ! 
Making me bond when I was free : 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee ? 
When thou were rid from all distress, 
Void of all pain and pensiveness, 
To choose again a new mistress ; 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee ? 
When thou were well thou could not hold : 
To turn again, that were too bold ; 
Thus to renew my sorrows old, 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee ? 
Thou know'st full well that but of late, 
I was turned out of Love's gate ; 
And now to guide me to this mate ! 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee ? 
I hop'd full well all had been done ; 
But now my hope is ta'en and won ; 
To my torment to yield so soon, 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee ? 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 141 



HE PROFESSETH INDIFFERENCE. 

Hate whom ye list, for I care not ; /^ 
Love whom ye list, and spare not ; 
Do what ye list, and dread not ; 
Think what ye list, I fear not ; 
For as for me I am not ; 
But even as one that recks not. 
Whether ye hate or hate not. 
For in your love I dote not ; 
Wherefore I pray you forget not; 
But love whom ye list, for I care not. 



HE REJOICETH THAT HE HAD BROKEN 
THE SNARES OF LOVE. 

Tangled I was in Love's snare, 
Oppressed with pain, torment with care ; 
Of grief right sure, of joy full bare, 
Clean in despair by cruelty ; 
But ha ! ha ! ha ! full well is me. 
For I am now at liberty. 

The woful days so full of pain. 
The weary night all spent in vain, 
The labour lost for so small gain. 



142 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

To write them all it will not be ; 
But ha ! ha ! ha ! full well is me, 
For I am now at liberty. 

Every thing that fair doth shew, 
When proof is made it proveth not so ; 
But turneth mirth to bitter woe. 
Which in this ease full well I see ; 
But ha ! ha ! ha ! full well is me, 
For I am now at liberty. 

Too great desire was my guide, 
And wanton will went by my side, 
Hope ruled still and made me bide. 
Of Love's craft the extremity. 
But ha ! ha ! ha ! full well is me, 
For I am now at liberty. 

With feigned words, which were but wind, 
To long delays I was assigned ; 
Her wily looks my wits did blind ; 
Thus as she would I did agree. 
But ha ! ha ! ha I full well is me. 
For I am now at liberty. 

Was never bird tangled in lime 
That brake away in better time. 
Than I, that rotten boughs did climb. 
And had no hurt but scaped free. 
Now ha I ha ! ha ! full well is me. 
For I am now at liberty. 



SIK THOMAS TVYATT's POEMS. 143 



THE LOVER PRAYETH 

THAT HIS lady's HEART MIGHT BE ENFLAMED WITH 
EQUAL AFFECTION. 

Love doth again 
Put me to pain, 
And yet all is but lost. 
I serve in vain. 
And am certain. 
Of all misliked most. 

Both heat and cold 
Doth so me hold. 
And comber so my mind ; 
That whom I should 
Speak and behold, 
It driveth me still behind. 

My wits be past. 
My life doth waste, 
My comfort is exiled ; 
And I in haste. 
Am like to taste 
How love hath me beguiled. 

Unless that right 
May in her sight 
Obtain pity and grace ; 
Wliy should a wight 
Have beauty bright. 
If mercy have no place. 



144 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Yet I, alas ! 
Am in such case ; 
That back I cannot go ; 
But still forth trace 
A patient pace, 
And suffer secret woe. 

For with the wind 
My fired mind 
Doth still inflame ; 
And she unkind 
That did me bind, 
Doth turn it all to game. 

Yet can no pain 
Make me refrain. 
Nor here and there to range ; 
I shall retain 
Hope to obtain 
Her heart that is so strange. 

But I require 
The painful fire. 
That oft doth make me sweat ; 
For all my ire, 
With like desire. 
To give her heart a heat. 

Then she shall prove 
How I her love. 
And what I have offered ; 
Which should her move. 
For to remove 
The pains that I have suffered. 



SIB THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 145 

And better fee 
Than she gave me, 
She shall of me attain ; 
For whereas she 
Shewed cruelty, 
She shall my heart obtain. 



THE DISDAIN^rUL LADY KEFUSING TO HEAR 

HER lover's suit, HE RESOLVETH TO FORSAKE HER, 

Now all of change 
Must be my song, 

And from my bond now must I break ; 
Since she so strange, 
Unto my wrong. 
Doth stop her ears, to hear me speak. 

Yet none doth know 
So well as she, 

My grief, which can have no restraint ; 
That fain would follow, 
Now needs must flee, 
For fault of ear unto my plaint. 

I am not he 
By false assays. 

Nor feigned faith can bear in hand ; 
Though most I see 
That such always 
Are best for to be understand. 
10 



146 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

But I that truth 
Hath always meant, 
Doth still proceed to serve in vain : 
Desire pursueth 
My time mispent, 
And doth not pass upon my pain. 

Of Fortune's might 
That each compels, 
And me the most, it doth suffice ; 
Now for my right 
To ask nought else 
But to withdraw this enterprise. 

And for the gain 
Of that good hour. 
Which of my woe shall be relief; 
I shall refrain 
By painful power, 
The thing that most hath been my grief. 

I shall not miss 
To exercise 

The help thereof which doth me teach, 
That after this 
In any wise 
To keep right within my reach. 

And she unjust 
Which feareth not 
In this her fame to be defiled. 
Yet once I trust 
Shall be my lot 
To quite the craft that me beguiled. 



SIB THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 147 



THE ABSENT LOVER FINDETH ALL HIS 
PAINS REDOUBLED. 

Absence, absenting causeth me to complainj 
My sorrowful complaints abiding in distress ; 
And departing most privy increaseth my pain, 
Thus live I uncomforted wrapped all in heaviness. 

In heaviness I am wrapped, devoid of all solace, 
Neither pastime nor pleasure can revive my dull wit, 
My spirits be all taken, and death doth me menace, 
With his fatal knife the thread for to kit. 

For to cut the thread of this wretched life. 
And shortly bring me out of this case ; 
I see it availeth not, yet must I be pensive. 
Since fortune from me hath turned her face. 

Her face she hath turned with countenance con 
trarious. 
And clean from her presence she hath exiled me, 
In sorrow remaining as a man most dolorous. 
Exempt from all pleasure and worldly felicity. 

All worldly felicity now am I private. 
And left in desart most solitarily, 
Wandering all about as one without mate ; 
My death approacheth ; what remedy ! 

What remedy, alas ! to rejoice my woful heart, 
With sighs suspiring most rueflilly ; 
Now welcome ! I am ready to depart ; 
Farewell all pleasure ! welcome pain and smart ! 



148 sm THO>iAs wyatt's poems. 



HE SEEKETH COMFORT IN PATIENCE. 

Patience ! for I have wrong 
And dare not shew wherein ; 
Patience shall be my song ; 
Since Truth can nothing win, 
Patience then for this fit ; 
Hereafter comes not yet. 



OF THE POWER OF LOVE OVER THE 
YIELDEN LOVER. 

Will ye see what wonders Love hath 
Then come and look at me. [wrought ? 

There need no where else to be sought, 
In me ye may them see. 

For unto that, that men may see 
Most monstrous thing of kind, 
Myself may best compared be ; 
Love hath me so assigned. 

There is a rock in the salt flood, 
A rock of such nature, 
That draweth the iron from the wood, 
And leaveth the ship unsure. 

She is the rock, the ship am I ; 
That rock my deadly foe. 
That draweth me there where I must die, 
And robbeth my heart me fro. 



SLR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 149 

% 

A bird there fleeth, and that but one, 
Of her this thing ensueth ; 
That when her days be spent and gone. 
With fire she reneweth. 

And I with her may well compare 
My love, that is alone ; , 
The flame whereof doth aye repair 
My life when it is gone. 



HE LAMENTETH THAT HE HAD EVER CAUSE 
TO DOUBT HIS LADY'S FAITH. 

Deem as ye list upon good cause, 
I may or think of this, or that ; 
But what, or why myself best knows 
Whereby I think and fear not. 
But thereunto I may well think 
The doubtful sentence of this clause ; 
' I would it were not as I think ; 
I would I thought it were not.' 

For if I thought it were not so. 
Though it were so, it grieved me not ; 
Unto my thought it were as tho' 
I hearkened though I hear not. 
At that I see I cannot wink. 
Nor from my thought so let it go ; 
^ I would it were not as I think ; 
I would I thought it were not.' 

Lo ! how my thought might make me free, 



150 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Of that perchance it needs not. 

Perchance none doubt the dread I see ; 

I shrink at that I bear not. 

But in mj heart this word shall sink, 

Until the proof may better be ; 

' I would it were not as I think ; 

I would I thought it were not.' 

If it be not, shew no cause why 
I should so think, then care I not ; 
For I shall so myself apply • 
To be that I appear not. 
That is, as one that shall not shrink 
To be your own until I die ; 
' And if that be not as I think, 
Likewise to think it is not.' 



THE RECURED LOVER 

EXULTETH IN HIS FREEDOM, AND VOWETH TO REMAIN 
FREE UNTIL DEATH. 

I AM as I am , and so will I be ; 
But how that I am, none knoweth truly. 
Be it evil, be it well, be I bond, be I free, 
I am as I am, and so will I be. 

I lead my life indifferently ; 
I mean notliing but honesty ; 
And though folks judge full diversely, * 
I am as I am, and so will I die. 

I do not rejoice, nor yet complain, 
Both mirth and sadness I do refrain, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 151 

And use the means since folks will feign ; 
Yet I am as I am, be it pleasure or pain. 

Divers do judge as thej do trow, 
Some of pleasure and some of woe, 
Yet for all that nothing they know ; 
But I am as I am, wheresoever I go. 

But since judgers do thus decay, 
Let every man his judgment say ; 
I will it take in sport and play, 
For I am as I am, whosoever say nay. 

Who judgeth well, well God him send ; 
Who judgeth evil, God them amend ; 
To judge the best therefore intend, 
For I am as I am, and so will I end. 

Yet some there be that take delight 
To judge folks' thought for envy and spite ; 
But whether they judge me wrong or right^ 
I am as I am, and so do I write. 

Praying you all that this do read. 
To trust it as you do your creed ; 
And not to think I change my weed. 
For I am as I am, however I speed. 

But how that is I leave to you ; 
Judge as ye list, false or true. 
Ye kuQw no more than afore ye knew, 
Yet I am as I am, whatever ensue. 

And from this mind I will not flee, 
But to you all that misjudge me, 
I do protest as ye may see 
That I am as I am, and so will be. 



152 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



POEMS. 



WYATT'S COMPLAINT UPON LOVE TO REASON, 
WITH LOVE'S ANSWER. 

Mine old dear enemy, my froward master. 
Afore that Queen I caused to be acited, 
Which holdeth the divine part of our nature ; 
That like as gold in fire, he might be tried : 
Charged with dolour, there I me presented. 
With horrible fear, as one that greatly dreadeth 
A wrongful death, and justice alway seeketh. 

And thus I said : ' Once my left foot, Madame, 
When I was young, I set within his reign ; 
Whereby other than fiery burning flame 
I never felt, but many a grievous pain : 
Torment I suffered, anger and disdain ; 
That mine oppressed patience was past, 
And I mine own life hated at the last. 

' Thus hitherto have I my time passed 
In pain and smart : what ways profitable, 
How many pleasant days have me escaped. 
In serving this false liar so deceivable ? 
What wit have words so prest and forcible. 
That may contain my great mishappiness. 
And just complaints of his ungentleness ? 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 153 

* So small honey, mucli aloes, and gall. 
In bitterness, my blind life have I tasted : 
His false semblance, that turneth as a ball, 
With fair and amorous dance, made me be traced ; 
And where I had my thought, and mind araised 
From earthly frailness, and from vain pleasure, 
Me from my rest he took, and set in error. 

' God made he me regardless, than I ought, 
And to myself to take right little heed : 
And for a woman have I set at nought 
All other thoughts, in this only to speed : 
And he was only counsellor of this deed ; 
Whetting always my youthly frail desire 
On cruel whetstone, tempered with fire. 

' But oh, alas, where had I ever wit, 
Or other gift given to me of nature ? 
That sooner shall be changed my wearied sprite 
Than the obstinate will, that is my ruler : 
So robbeth he my freedom with displeasure ; 
This wicked traitor, whom I thus accuse : 
That bitter life hath turned in pleasant use. 

' He hath me hasted through divers regions ; 
Through desert woods, and sharp high mountains ; 
Through froward people, and through bitter pas- 
sions ; 
Through rocky seas, and over hills and plains ; 
With weary travel, and with laborous pains ; 
Always in trouble and in tediousness, 
In all error, and dangerous distress. 

' But neither he nor she, my other foe, 



154 SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 

For all my flight did ever me forsake : 

That though mj timely death hath been too slow, 

That me, as yet, it hath not overtake : 

The heavenly gods of pity do it slake ! 

And note they this his cruel tyranny, 

That feeds him with my care, and misery ! 

' Since I was his, hour rested I never. 
Nor look to do ; and eke the wakey nights 
The banished sleep may in no wise recover 
By guile and force, over my thralled sprites. 
He is ruler, since which bell never strikes 
That I hear not as sounding to renew my plaints. 
Himself he knoweth that I say true. 

' For never worms old rotten stock have eaten, 
As he my heart, where he is resident, 
And doth the same with death daily threaten ; 
Thence come the tears, and thence the bitter tor- 
ment. 
The sighs, the words, and eke the languishment. 
That annoy both me, and peradventure other : 
Judge thou that knowest the one, and eke the other.' 

Mine adversare with such grievous reproof. 
Thus he began ; ' Hear, Lady, the other part ; 
That the plain truth, from which he draweth aloof, 
This unkind man may shew, ere that I part: 
In his young age, I took him from that art. 
That selleth words, and make a clattering knight, 
And of my wealth I gave him the delight. 

' Now shames he not on me for to complain. 
That held him evermore in pleasant game, 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 155 

From his desii-e, that might have been his pain : 
Yet thereby alone I brought him to some frame ; 
TVTiich now as wretchedness, he doth so blame ; 
And toward honour quickened I his wit, 
"Where as a dastard else he might have sit. 

* He knoweth how great Atrides, that made Troy 
fret ; 
And Hannibal to Rome so troublous ; 
"Whom Homer honoured, Achilles that great ; 
And African Scipion, the famous ; 
And many other, by much honour glorious ; 
Whose fame and acts did hft them up above ; 
I did let fall in base dishonest love. 

' And unto him, though he unworthy were, 
I chose the best of many a milhon ; 
That under sun yet never was her peer 
Of wisdom, womanhood, and of discretion ; 
And of my grace I gave her such a fashion. 
And eke such way I taught her for to teach. 
That never base thought his heart so high might 
reach. 

' Evermore thus to content his mistress, 
That was his only frame of honesty, 
I stirred him still toward gentleness ; 
And caused him to regard fidelity ; 
Patience I taught him in adversity : 
Such virtues learned he in my great school ; 
Wliereof repenteth now the ignorant fool. 

' These were the same deceits, and bitter gall. 
That I have used, the torment and the anger. 



156 SIR THOMAS AYYATT's POEMS. 

Sweeter than ever did to other fall ; 

Of right good seed ill fruit, lo, thus I gather ; 

And so shall he that the unkind doth further : 

A serpent nourish I under my wing, 

And now of nature 'ginneth he to sting. 

' And for to tell, at last, my great service ; 
From thousand dishonesties have I him drawen, 
That by my means, him in no manner wise 
Never vile pleasure once hath overthrowen ; 
Where in his deed, shame hath him always gnawen ; 
Doubting report that should come to her ear : 
Whom now he blames, her wonted he to fear. 

' Whatever he hath of any honest custom, 
Of her, and me, that holds he every whit : 
But lo, yet never was there nightly phantom 
So far in error, as he is from his wit 
To plain on us : he striveth with the bit, 
Which may rule him, and do him ease, and pain, 
And in one hour make all his grief his gain. 

' But one thing yet there is, above all other : 
I gave him wings, wherewith he might upfly 
To honour and fame ; and if he would to higher 
Than mortal things, above the starry sky : 
Considering the pleasure that an eye 
Might give in earth, by reason of the love ; 
What should that be that lasteth still above ? 

^ And he the same himself hath said ere this : 
But now, forgotten is both that and I, 
That gave him her, his only wealth and bliss.' 
And at this word, with deadly shriek and cry, 



SIB THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 157 

* Thou gave her once,' quod I, ' but by and by 
Thou took her ayen from me, that woe-worth thee ! ' 

* Not I, but price ; more worth than thou.' quod he. 

At last, each other for himself concluded, 
I trembhng still, but he, with small reverence ; 

* Lo, thus, as we each other have accused, 
Dear lady, now we wait thine only sentence.' 
She smiling, at the whisted audience, 

^It liketh me,' quod she, 'to have heard your 

question. 
But longer time doth ask a resolution.' 



COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HIS LOVE. 

So feeble is the thread, that doth the burden stay 

Of my poor life ; in heavy plight, that falleth in de- 
cay ; 

That, but it have elsewhere some aid or some 
succours. 

The running spindle of my fate anon shall end his 
course. 

For since the unhappy hour, that did me to depart. 

From my sweet weal, one only hope hath stayed 
my life apart : 

Which doth persuade such words unto my sored 
mind, 

* Maintain thyself, woful wight, some better luck 
to find : 



158 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

For though thou be deprived from thj desired sight, 

Who can thee tell, if thy return be for thy more 
dehght? 

Or, who can tell, thy loss if thou mayst once re- 
cover. 

Some pleasant hour thy woe may wrap, and thee 
defend and cover.' 

Thus in distrust as yet it hath my life sustained ; 

But now, alas, I see it faint, and I by trust am 
trained. 

The time doth fleet, and I see how the hours do bend 

So fast, that I have scant the space to mark my 
coming end. 

Westward the sun from out the east scant shews his 

When in the west he hides him straight, within the 

dark of night ; 
And comes as fast, where he began his path awry, 
From east to west, from west to east, so doth his 

journey lie. 
The life so short, so frail, that mortal men live here ; 
So great a weight, so heavy charge the bodies that 

we bear ; 
That when I think upon the distance and the space. 
That doth so far divide me from my dear desired face, 
I know not how t' attain the wings that I require, 
To lift me up, that I might fly, to follow my desire. 
Thus of that hope, that doth my life something 

•^ sustain, 
Alas, I fear, and partly feel, full little doth remain. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 159 

Each place doth bring me grief, where I do not 

behold 
Those Hvely eyes, which of my thoughts were wont 

the keys to hold. 
Those thoughts were pleasant sweet, whilst I en- 

joy'd that grace ; 
My pleasure past, my present pain when I might 

well embrace. 
And for because my want should more my woe in- 
crease ; 
In watch, in sleep, both day and night, my will doth 

never cease. 
That thing to wish, whereof since I did lose the 

.^ight, 
Was never thing that might in ought my woful heart 

delight. 
Th' uneasy life I lead doth teach me for to mete 
The floods, the seas, the lands, the hills, that doth 

them intermete 
'Tween me, and those shene Ughts that wonted for 

to clear 
My darked pangs of cloudy thoughts, as bright as 

Phoebus' sphere. 
It teacheth me also what was my pleasant state, 
The more to feel, by such record, how that my 

wealth doth bate. 
If such record, alas, provoke the inflamed mind. 
Which sprang that day that I did leave the best of 

me behind : 
If love forget himself by length of absence let, 



160 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Who doth me guide, O woful wTetch, unto this 

baited net [me, 

Where doth increase my care, much better were for 
As dumb as stone, all things forgot, still absent for 

to be. 
Alas, the clear crystal, the bright transplendent 

glass 
Doth not bewray the colours hid, which underneath 

it has ; 
As doth th' accumbred sprite the thoughtful throes 

discover. 
Of fierce delight, of fervent love, that in our hearts 

we cover : 
Out by these eyes it sheweth that evermore delight. 
In plaint and tears to seek redress ; and eke both 

day and night, 
Those kinds of pleasures most wherein men so re- 
joice. 
To me they do redouble still of stormy sighs the 

voice. 
For I am one of them whom plaint doth well content, 
It fits me well mine absent wealth me seems for to 

lament ; 
And with my tears t' assay to charge mine eyes 

twain, 
Like as my heart above the brink is fraughted full 

of pain : 
And for because thereto, that those fair eyes to treat 
Do me provoke ; I will return, my plaint thus to 

repeat : 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 161 

For, there is nothing else so toucheth me within ; 
Where they rule all, and I alone nought but the 

case, or skin : 
Wherefore I shall return to them, as well, or spring 
From whom descends my mortal woe, above aU 

other thing. 
So shall mine eyes in pain accompany my heart, 
That were the guides, that did it lead of love to feel 

the smart. 
The crisped gold that doth surmount Apollo's pride ; 
The lively streams of pleasant stars that under it 

doth glide ; 
Wherein the beams of love do still increase their 

heaty 
Which yet so far touch me so near, in cold to make 

me sweat: 
The wise and pleasant talk, so rare, or else alone. 
That gave to me the courteous gift, that erst had 

never none ; 
Be far from me, alas, and every other thing 
I might forbear with better will, than this that did 

me bring [pain, 

With pleasant word and cheer, redress of linger'd 
And wonted oft in kindled will to virtue me to train. 
Thus am I forced to hear, and hearken after news : 
My comfort scant, my large desire in doubtful trust 

renews. 
And yet with more delight to moan my woful case, 
I must complain those hands, these arms that firmly 

do embrace 

11 



162 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Me from myself, and rule the stem of my poor life ; 
The sweet disdains the pleasant wraths and eke the 

lovely strife, 
That wonted well to tune in temper just, and meet, 
The rage, that oft did make me err, by furor un- 

discreet. 
All this is hid fro me, with sharp and ragged hills, 
At others' will my long abode my deep despair 

fulfils ; 
And if my hope sometime rise up by some redress, 
It stumbleth straight, for feeble faint, my fear hath 

such excess. 
Such is the sort of hope, the less for more desire. 
And yet I trust ere that I die to see that I require : 
The resting-place of love, where virtue dwells and 

grows, 
There I desire my weary life sometime may take 

repose. 
My Song, thou shalt attain to find that pleasant 

place. 
Where she doth live, by whom I live : may chance 

to have this grace. 
When she hath read, and seen the grief wherein I 

serve. 
Between her breasts she shall thee put, there shall 

she thee reserve : 
Then tell her that I come, she shall me shortly see. 
And if for weight the body fail, the soul shall to her 

flee. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 163 



THE SONG OF lOPAS, UNFINISHED. 

When Dido feasted the wand'ring Troian knight, 
Whom Juno's wrath with storms did force in Libic 

sands to Hght ; 
That mighty Atlas taught, the supper lasting long. 
With crisped locks on golden harp lopas sang in 

song : 
' That same,' quod he, ' that we the World do call 

and name. 
Of heaven and earth with all contents, it is the very- 
frame. 
Or thus, of heavenly powers by more power kept in 

one ; 
Repugnant kinds, in mids of whom the earth hath 

place alone ; 
Firm, round, of living things the mother, place, and 

nurse ; 
Without the which the egall weight, this heaven doth 

hold his course : 
And it is call'd by name the first and moving heaven. 
The firmament is placed next, containing other 

seven. 
Of heavenly powers that same is planted full and 

thick, 
As shining lights which we call stars, that therein 

cleave and stick : 



164 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

With great swift sway, the first, and with his restless 

source, 
Carrieth itself, and all those eight, in even continual 

course. 
And of this world so round within that rolling case, 
Two points there be that never move, but firmly 

keep their place : 
The one we see alway, the other stands object 
Against the same, dividing just the ground by line 

direct ; 
Which by imagination he drawen from one to 

t'other 
Toucheth the centre of the earth, for way there is 

none other; 
And these be call'd the poles, described by stars not 

bright : 
Arctic the one northward we see: Antarctic the 

other bight. 
The line, that we devise from the one to t'other so, 
As axle is ; upon the which the heavens about do go ; 
Which of water nor earth, of air nor fire, have kind ; 
Therefore the substance of those same were hard 

for man to find : 
But they been uncorrupt, simple, and pure unmixt ; 
And so we say been all those stars, that in those 

same be fixt : 
And eke those erring seven, in circle as they stray ; 
So caird, because against that first they have repug- 
nant way; 
And smaller by-ways too, scant sensible to man ; 



SIR THo:yrAS wyatt's poems. 165 

Too busy work for my poor harp; let sing them 

he that can. 
The widest save the first, of all these nine above. 
One hundred year doth ask of space, for one degree 

to move. 
Of which degrees we make in the first moving 

heaven. 
Three hundred and threescore, in parts justly divided 

even. 
And yet there is another between those heavens two, 
Whose moving is so sly, so slack, I name it not for 

now. 
The seventh heaven or the shell, next to the starry 

sky; 
All those degrees that gathereth up, with aged pace 

so sly : 
And doth perform the same, as elders' count hath 

been, 
In nme and twenty years complete, and days almost 

sixteen ; 
Doth carry in his bowt the star of Saturn old, 
A threat'ner of all living things with drought and 

with his cold. 
The sixth whom this contains, doth stalk with 

younger pace. 
And in twelve year doth somewhat more than 

t'other's voyage was : 
And this in it doth bear the star of Jove benign, 
*Tween Saturn's malice and us men, friendly defend- 
ing sign. 



166 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

The fifth bears bloody Mars, that in three hundred 

days 
And twice eleven with one full year hath finish'd 

all thosf/ ways. 
A year doth ask the fourth, and hours thereto six, 
And in the same the day his eye, the Sun, therein 

he sticks. 
The third that govern'd is by that that governs me, 
And love for love, and for no love provokes, as oft 

we see, [other. 

In like space doth perform that course, that did the 
So doth the next unto the same, that second is in 

order : 
But it doth bear the star, that call'd is Mercury ; 
That many a crafty secret step doth tread, as cal- 

cars try. 
That sky is last, and fix'd next us those ways hath 

gone. 
In seven-and-twenty common days, and eke the 

third of one; 
And beareth with his sway the divers Moon about ; 
Now bright, now brown, now bent, now full, and 

now her light is out : 
Thus have they of their own two movings all these 

Seven ; 
One, wherein they be carried still, each in his seve- 
ral heaven : 
Another of themselves, where their bodies* be laid 
In by-ways, and in lesser rounds, as I afore have 

said ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 167 

Save of them all the Sun doth stray least from the 

straight : 
The starry sky hath but one course, that we have 

eaJl'd the eight. 
And all these movings eight are meant from west 

to east; 
Although they seem to climb aloft, I say from east 

to west. 
But that is but by force of their first moving sky. 
In twice twelve hours from east to east, that car- 

rieth them by and by : 
But mark we well also, these movings of these seven 
Be not above the axle tree of the first moving heaven. 
For they have their two poles directly the one to 

the other,' &c. 



168 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



SONGS AND EPIGRAMS. 

A DESCRIPTION OF SUCH A ONE AS HE 
WOULD LOVE. 

A FACE that should content me wondrous well, 

Should not be fair, but lovely to behold ; 

Of lively look, all grief for to repel ; 

With right good grace, so Avould I that it should 

Speak without word, such words as none can tell : 

Her tress also should be of crisped gold ; 

With wit, and these perchance I might be tried, 
And knit again with knot, that should not slide. 



WHY LOVE IS BLIND. 

Of purpose Love chose first for to be blind. 
For, he with sight of that, that I behold, 
Vanquish'd had been, against all godly kind : 
His bow your hand, and truss should have unfold ; 
And lie with me to serve had been assigned : 
But, for he blind, and reckless would him hold, 

And still by chance his deadly strokes bestow ; 

With such as see, 1 serve, and suffer woe. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 169 

THE LOVER BLAMETH HIS INSTANT DESIRE. 

Desire, alas, my master and my foe. 

So sore alter'd thyself, how mayst thou see ? 

Sometime thou seekest, and drives me to and fro ; 

Sometime thou lead'st, that leadeth thee and me. 

What reason is to rule thy subject' so, 

By forced law, and mutability ? 

For where by thee I doubted to have blame, 
Even now by hate again I doubt the same. 



AGAINST HOARDERS OF MONEY. 

For shamefast harm of great and hateful need, 
In deep despair, as did a wretch go, 
With ready cord out of his life to speed. 
His stumbling foot did find an hoard, lo, 
Of gold, I say, where he prepared this deed, 
And in exchange he left the cord tho. 

He that had hid the gold, and found it not, 
Of that he found he shap'd his neck a knot. 



DESCRIPTION OF A GUN. 

Vulcan begat me, Minerva me taught. 
Nature my mother, craft nourished me year by year ; 
Three bodies are my food, my strength is in nought, 
Anger, wrath, waste, and noise are my children 
dear ; 



170 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

Guess, friend, what I am, and how I am wrought. 
Monster of sea, or of land, or of elsewhere : 
Know me, and use me, and I may thee defend, 
And if I be thine enemy, I may thy life end. 



OF THE MOTHER THAT EAT HER CHILD AT 
THE SIEGE OF JERUSALEM. 

In doubtful breast whilst motherly pity 
With furious famine standeth at debate ; 
The mother saith, ' O child unhappy, 
Return thy blood where thou hadst milk of late ; 
Yield me those limbs that I made unto thee, 
And enter there where thou were generate ; 

For of one body against all nature. 

To another must I make sepulture.' 



TO HIS LOVE WHOM HE HAD KISSED AGAINST 
HER WILL. 

Alas, Madam, for stealing of a kiss. 

Have I so much your mind therein offended ? 

Or have I done so grievously amiss. 

That by no means it may not be amended ? 

Revenge you then : the readiest way is this ; 

Another kiss, my life it shall have ended ; 

For to my mouth the first my heart did suck ; 

The next shall clean out of my breast it pluck. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 171 



OF THE JEALOUS MAN 

THAT LOVED THE SAME WOMAN, AND ESPIED THIS OTHER 
SITTING WITH HER. 

The wand'ring gadling in the summer tide, 
That finds the adder with his rechless foot, 
Starts not dismay'd so suddenly aside, 
As jealous despite did, though there were no boot, 
When that he saw me sitting by her side, 
That of my health is very crop and root. 
It pleased me then to have so fair a grace. 
To sting the heart, that would have had my place. 



TO HIS LOVE FROM WHOM HE HAD HER 
GLOVES. 

What needs these threatening words and wasted 

wind? 
All this cannot make me restore my prey. 
To rob your good, y-wis is not my mind : 
Nor causeless your fair hand did I display. 
Let Love be judge, or else whom next we find, 
That may both hear what you and I can say. 
She reft my heart, and I a glove from her : 
Let us see then, if one be worth the other. 



172 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH THAT DEADLY 

BICKl^ESS CANNOT HELP HIS AFFECTION. 

The enemy of life, decayer of all kind, 
That with his cold withers away the green, 
This other night me in my bed did find, 
And offered me to rid my fever clean ; 
And I did grant, so did despair me blind : 
He drew his bow with arrow sharp and keen. 

And strake the place where Love had hit be- 
fore ; 

And drave the first dart deeper more and more. 



OF THE FEIGNED FRIEND. 

Right true it is, and said full yore ago ; 

* Take heed of him that by the back thee claweth : ' 

For none is worse than is a friendly foe. 

Though thee seem good all thing that thee delight- 

eth. 
Yet know it well, that in thy bosom creepeth : 
For many a man such fire ofttimes he kindleth, 
T-Wt with the blaze his beard himself he singeth. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 173 

COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM 
FALLING FROM THE ALPS. 

From these high hills as when a spring doth fall, 

It trilleth down with still and subtle course, 

Of this and that it gathers aye and shall, 

Till it have just down flowed to stream, and force, 

Then at the foot it rageth over all : 

So fareth love, when he hath ta'en a source, 

Rage is his reign, resistance Vaileth none. 

The first eschew is remedy alone. 



OF HIS LOVE THAT PRICKED HER FINGER 
WITH A NEEDLE. 

She sat, and sewed, that hath done me the wrong ; 
Whereof I plain, and have done many a day : 
And, whilst she heard my plaint, in piteous song 
She wish'd my heart the sampler, that it lay. 
The blind master, whom I have served so long, 
Grudging to hear that he did hear her say. 
Made her own weapon do her finger bleed. 
To feel if pricking were so good indeed. 



OF THE SAME. 

What man heard such cruelty before ? 
That, when my plaint remembered her my woe. 
That caused it, she cruel more and more. 
Wished each stitch, as she did sit and sew, 



174 SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 

Had prick'd my heart, for to increase my sore : 
And, as I think, she thought it had been so : 
For as she thought, this is his heart indeed, 
She pricked hard, and made herself to bleed. 



THE LOVER THAT FLED LOVE NOW FOLLOWS 
IT WITH HIS HARM. 

Sometime I fled the fire, that me so brent, 
By sea, by land, by water, and by wind ; 
And now the coals I follow that be quent, 
FroA Dover to Calais, with willing mind. 
Lo, how desire is both forth sprung, and spent ; 
And he may see, that whilom was so blind, 
And all his labour laughs he now to scorn, 
Meashed in the briers, that erst was only torn. 



THE LOVER COMPARETH HIS HEART TO 
THE OVERCHARGED GUN. 

The furious gun in his most raging ire, 
When that the bowl is rammed in too sore, 
And that the flame cannot part from the fire ; 
Cracks in sunder, and in the air do roar 
The shivered pieces. So doth my desire ; 
Whose flame increaseth aye from more to more ; 

Which to let out, I dare not look, nor speak ; 

So inward force my heart doth all to break. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 175 



HOW BY A KISS HE FOUND BOTH HIS LIFE 
AND DEATH. 

Nature, that gave the bee so feat a grace 
To find honey of so wondrous fashion, 
Hath taught the spider out of the same, place 
To fetch poison by strange alteration ; 
Though this be strange, it is a stranger case 
With one kiss by secret operation 

Both these at once in those your lips to find ; 

In change whereof I leave my heart behind. 



TO HIS LOVER TO LOOK UPON HIM. 

All in thy look my life doth whole depend,^^^*^ 
Thou hidest thyself, and I must die therefore ;.' 
But since thou mayst so easily help thy friend, 
Why dost thou stick to salve that thou madest sore 'iir 
Why do I die since thou mayst me defend ? ,^^ 
And if I die, thy life may last no more ; /• 

For each by other doth live and have relief,^ 
I in thy look, and thou most in my grief. ^. - 



OF DISAPPOINTED PURPOSE BY NEGLIGENCE. 

Of Carthage he that worthy warrior 

Could overcome, but could not use his chance ; 

And I likewise of all my long endeavour 



176 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

The sharp conquest though fortune did advance, 
Ne could I use. The hold that is given over 
I unpossessj so hangeth now in balance 
Of war my peace, reward of all my pain. 
At Mountzon thus I restless rest in Spain. 



OF HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN. 

Tagus, farewell, that westward with thy streams 
Turns up the grains of gold already tried ; 
For I with spur and sail go seek the Thames, 
Gain ward the sun that sheweth her wealthy pride ; 
And to the town that Brutus sought by dreams, 
Like bended moon, that leans her lusty side ; 
My King, my Country I seek, for whom I live; X 
Of mighty Jove, the winds for this me give. 



WYATT BEING IN PRISON, TQ BRYAN. 

Sighs are my food, my drink are my tears ; 
Clinking of fetters would such music crave ; 
Stink, and close air away my life it wears ; 
Poor innocence is all the hope I have : 
Rain, wind, or weather judge I by my ears : 
Malice assaults, that righteousness should have. 
Sure am I, Bryan, this wound shall heal again, 
But yet, alas, the scar shall still remain. 




sm THOMAS wyatt's poems. 177 



OF SUCH AS HAD FORSAKEN HIM. 

Lux, my fair falcon, and thy fellows all ; 
How well pleasant it were your liberty ! 
Ye not forsake me, that fair might you fall. 
But they that sometime liked my company, 
Like lice away from dead bodies they crawl : 
Lo, what a proof in light adversity ! 

But ye, my birds, I swear by aU your bells, 
Ye be my friends, and very few else. 



THE LOVER HOPETH OF BETTER CHANCE. 

He is not dead, that 'sometime had a fall. 
The sun returns, that hid was under cloud, / / 

And when fortune hath spit out all her gall, L/ 
I trust, good luck to me shall be allowed : 
For I have seen a ship in haven fall. 
After that storm hath broke both mast and shroud ; 
The willow eke, that stoopeth with the wind, 
Doth rise again, and greater wood doth bind. 



THAT PLEASURE IS MIXED WITH EVERY PAIN. 

Venemous thorns that are so sharp and keen, 
Bear flowers, we see, full fresh and fair of hue : 
Poison is also put in medicine, 
And unto man his health doth oft renew : 

12 



178 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

The fire that all things eke consumeth clean 
May hurt and heal : then if that this be true, 
I trust sometime my harm may be my health, 
Since every woe is joined with some wealth. 



THE COURTIER^S LIFE. 

In Court to serve decked with fresh array, 
Of sugar'd meats feeling the sweet repast, 
The life in banquets and sundry kinds of play 
Amid the press of worldly looks to waste. 
Hath with it join'd ofttimes such bitter taste, 
That whoso joys -such kind of life to hold. 
In prison joys fetter'd with chains of gold. 



OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE. 

Stand, whoso list, upon the slipper wheel 
Of high estate ; and let me here rejoice, 
And use my life in quietness each dele. 
Unknown in court that hath the wanton toys : 
In hidden place my time shall slowly pass. 
And when my years be past withouten noise, 
Let me die old after the common trace ; 
For gripes of death doth he too hardly pass, 
That knowen is to all, but to himself, alas. 
He dieth unknown, dased with dreadful face. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 179 



THE LOVER SUSPECTED OF CHANGE PRAYETB 

THAT IT BE NOT BELIEVED AGAINST HIM. 

Accused though I be without desert; 
Sith none can prove, believe it not for true : 
For never yet, since that you had my heart, 
Intended I to false, or be untrue. 
Sooner I would of death sustain the smart. 
Than break one word of that I promised you ; 
Accept therefore my service in good part : 
None is alive, that can ill tongues eschew. 
Hold them as false ; and let us not depart 
Our friendship old in hope of any new : 
Put not thy trust in such as use to feign. 
Except thou mind to put thy friend to pain. 



OF DISSEMBLING WORDS. 

Throughout the world if it were sought, 
Fair words enough a man shall find ; 
They be good cheap, they cost right nought, 
Their substance is but only wind ; 
But well to say and so to mean. 
That sweet accord is seldom seen. 



180 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



OF' SUDDEN TRUSTING. 

Driven by desire I did this deed, 
To danger myself without cause why, 
To trust th' untrue not Hke to speed, 
To speak and promise faithfully : 
But now the proof doth verify, 
That whoso trusteth ere he know. 
Doth hurt himself and please his foe. 



THE LADY TO ANSWER DIRECTLY WITH 
YEA OR NAY. 

Madam, withouten many words, 

Once I am sure you will, or no : 

And if you will, then leave your bourds, 

And use your wit, and shew it so : 

For with a beck you shall me call ; 

And if of one, that burns alway, 

Ye have pity or ruth at all. 

Answer him fair with yea or nay. 

If it be yea, I shall be fain ; 

If it be nay, friends as before ; 

You shall another man obtain. 

And I mine own, and yours no more. 



Sm THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 181 



ANSWER. 

Of few words, Sir, you seem to be, 
And where I doubted what I would do 
Your quick request hath caused me 
Quickly to tell you what you shall trust to. 
For he that will be called with a beck, 
Makes hasty suit on light desire : 
Is ever ready to the check. 
And burneth in no wasting fire. 
Therefore whether you be lief or loth, 
And whether it grieve you light or sore, 
I am at a point : I have made an oath. 
Content you with ' Nay ; ' for you get no more. 



THE LOVER PROEESSETH HIMSELF 
CONSTANT. 

Within my breast I never thought it gain 
Of gentle minds the freedom for to lose ; 
Nor in my heart sank never such disdain, 
To be a forger, faults for to disclose : 
Nor I cannot endure the truth to glose, 
To set a gloss upon an earnest pain : 
Nor I am not in number one of those 
That list to blow retreat to every train. 



182 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 



THE LOVER BLAMETH HIS LOVE FOR 

RENTING OF THE LETTER HE SENT HER. 

Sufficed not, Madam, that you did tear 
My woful heart, but thus also to rent 
The weeping paper that to you I sent ; 
Whereof each letter was written with a tear ? 
Could not my present pains, alas, suffice 
Your greedy heart ? and that my heart doth feel 
Torments, that prick more sharper than the steel? 
But new and new must to my lot arise. 
Use then my death : So shall your cruelty, 
Spite of your spite, rid me from all my smart, 
And I no more such torments of the heart 
Feel as I do : This shall you gain thereby. 



THE LOVER COMPLAINETH AND HIS LADY 
COMEORTETH. 

Lover. It burneth yet, alas, my heart's desire. 

Lady. What is the thing that hath inflamed thy 
heart ? 

Lover. A certain point as fervent as the fire. 

Lady. The heat shall cease, if that thou wilt con- 
vert. 

Lover. I cannot stop the fervent raging ire. 

Lady. Wliat may I do, if thyself cause thy smart ? 



SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 183 

Lover. Hear my request, and rue my weeping 

chere. 
Lady. With right good will, say on : lo, I thee hear. 
LoYER. That thing would I, that maketh two con- 
tent, [not. 
Lady. Thou seekest, perchance, of me, that I may 
Lover. Would God, thou wouldst, as thou mayst, 

well assent. 
Lady. That I may not the grief is mine, God wot. 
Lover. But I it feel, whatso thy words have meant. 
Lady. Suspect me not : my words be not forgot. 
Lover. Then, say, alas, shall I have help or no ? 
Lady. I see no time to answer yea, but no. 
Lover. Say yea, dear heart, and stand no more in 

doubt. 
Lady. I may not grant a thing that is so dear. 
Lover. Lo, with delays thou drivest me still about. 
Lady. Thou wouldst my death, it plainly doth 

appear. [bleed out. 

Lover. First, may my heart his blood, ai^d life 
Lady. Then for my sake, alas, thy will forbear. 
Lover. From day to day thus wastes my life away. 
Lady. Yet for the best, suffer some small delay. 
Lover. Now good, say yea: do once so good a 

deed. 
Lady. If I said yea, what should thereof ensue ? 
Lover. A heart in pain of succour so should 

speed : [renew. 

'Twixt yea and nay, my doubt shall still 
My sweet, say yea ; and do away this dread. 



184 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Lady. Thou wilt needs so: be it so; but then be 

true. [none. 

Lover. Nought would I else, nor other treasure 

Thus hearts be won by love, request, and 

moan. 



THE LOVER SUSPECTED BLAMETH ILL 
TONGUES. 

Mistrustful minds be moved 
To have me in suspect, 
The truth it shall be proved. 
Which time shall once detect. 

Though falsehood go about 
Of crime me to accuse, 
At length I do not doubt 
But truth shall me excuse. 

Such sauce as they have served 
To me without desart, 
Even as they have deserved. 
Thereof God send them part. 



OF HIS LOVE CALLED ANNA. 

What word is that, that changeth not. 
Though it be turn'd and made in twain ? 
It is mine Anna, God it wot, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 185 

The only causer of my pain ; 

My love that meedeth with disdain. 

Yet is it loved, what will you more ? 

It is my salve, and eke my sore. 



A EIDDLE OF A GIPT GIVEN BY A LADY. 

A LADY gave me a gift she had not ; 

And I received her gift which I took not ; 

She gave it me willingly, and yet she would not ; 

And I received it, albeit, I could not : 

If she give it me, I force not ; 

And if she take it again, she cares not. 

Construe what this is, and tell not ; 

For I am fast sworn I may not. 



THAT SPEAKING OR PROEFERING BRINGS 
ALWAY SPEEDING. 

Speak thou and speed where will or power ought 

helpeth ; 
Where power doth want, will must be won by 

wealth : 
For need wiU speed, where will works not his kind ; 
And gain thy foes thy friends shall cause thee find : 
For suit and gold, what do not they obtain ? 
Of good and bad the tryers are these twain. 



186 SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 

T. WYATT OF LOVE. 

Like as the wind with raging blast 
Doth cause each tree to bow and bend ; 
Even so do I spend my time in waste, 
My life consuming unto an end. 

For as the flame by force doth quench the fire, 
And running streams consume the rain ; 
Even so do I myself desire 
To augment my grief and deadly pain. 

Whereas I find that what is what. 
And cold is cold by course of kind, 
So shall I knit an endless knott ; 
Such fruit in love, alas ! I find. 

When I foresaw those crystal streams. 
Whose beauty doth cause my mortal wound, 
I little thought within those beams 
So sweet a venom for to have found. 

I feel and see my own decay ; 
As one that beareth flame in his breast. 
Forgetful thought to put away 
The thing that breedeth my unrest. 

Like as the fly doth seek the flame, 
And afterward playeth in the fire, 
Who findeth her woe, and seeketh her game. 
Whose grief doth grow of her own desire. 

Like as the spider doth draw her line. 
As labour lost so is my suit ; 
The gain is hers, the loss is mine : 
Of evil-sown seed such is the fruit. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 187 



SATIRES. 

OF THE MEAN AND SURE ESTATE, WRITTEN 
TO JOHN POINS. 

Mt mother's maids, when they do sew and spin, 
They sing a song made of the fieldish mouse : 
That for because her livelode was but thin, 
Would needs go see her townish sister's house. 
She thought herself endured to grievous pain, 
The stormy blasts her cave so sore did souse ; 
That when the furrows swimmed with the rain, 
She must he cold and wet, in sorry plight ; 
And worse than that, bare meat there did remain 
To comfort her, when she her house had dight ; 
Sometime a barley com, sometime a bean ; 
For which she laboured hard both day and night, 
In harvest time, while she might go and glean. 
And when her store was stroyed with the flood. 
Then wellaway, for she undone was clean : 
Then was she fain to take, instead of food ; 
Sleep if she might, her hunger to beguile. 
^ My sister,' quod she, ' hath a hving good ; 
And hence from me she dwelleth not a mile. 
In cold and storm, she lieth warm and dry 
In bed of down ; the dirt doth not defile 
Her tender foot, she labours not as I. 
Richly she feeds, and at the rich man's cost ; 



188 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

And for her meat 'she needs not crave nor cry ; 

By sea, by land, of delicates the most, 

Her cater seeks, and spareth for no peril : 

She feeds on boil'd meat, baked meat, and roast, 

And hath therefore no wit of charge nor travail. 

And when she list, the liquor of the grape 

Doth glad her heart till that her belly swell.' 

And at this journey makes she but a jape. 

So forth she goes, trusting of all this wealth 

With her Sister her part so for to shape, 

That if she might there keep herself in health. 

To live a lady, while her life do last. 

And to the door now is she come by stealth ; 

And with her foot anon she scrapes full fast. 

Th' other for fear durst not well scarce appear ; 

Of every noise so was the wretch aghast. 

At last she asked softly who was there ; 

And in her language as well as she could, 

' Peep,' quod the other, ' Sister, I am here.' 

' Peace,' quod the town-mouse, ' why speakest thou 

so loud ? ' 
And by the hand she took her fair and well. 
' Welcome,' quod she, ' my Sister, by the rood.' 
She feasted her, that joy it was to tell 
The fare they had, they drank the wine so clear ; 
And as to purpose now and then it fell. 
So cheered her with, 'How, Sister, what cheer?' 
Amid this joy befell a sorry chance, 
That wellaway, the stranger bought full dear 
The fare she had. For as she look'd askance, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 189 

Under a stool she spied two steaming eyes 

In a round head, with sharp ears. In France 

Was never mouse so fear'd, for the unwise 

Had not jseen such a beast before. 

Yet had nature taught her after her guise 

To know her foe, and dread him evermore. 

The town mouse fled, she knew whither to go ; 

Th' other had no shift, but wonders sore ; 

Fear'd of her life, at home she wished her tho. 

And to the door, alas, as she did skip, 

Th' heaven it would, lo, and eke her chance was so 

At the threshold her selj foot did trip ; 

And ere she might recover it again. 

The traitor cat^had caught her by the hip, 

And made her there against her will remain, 

That had forgot her power, surety, and rest, 

For seeking wealth, wherein she thought to reign. 

Alas, my Poins, how men do seek the best, 
And find the worst, by error as they stray ; 
And no marvel, when sight is so opprest. 
And blinds the guide, anon out of the way 
Goeth guide and all in seeking quiet life. 
O wretched minds, there is no gold that may 
Grant that you seek, no war, no peace, no strife : 
No, no, although thy head were hoop'd with gold, 
Serjeant with mace, with halbert, sword, nor knife. 
Cannot repulse the care that follow should. 
Each kind of life hath with him his disease : 
Live in delights even as thy lust would, 
And thou shalt find, when lust doth most thee please, 



190 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

It irketh straight, and by itself doth fade. 

A small thing is it that may thy mind appease ? 

None of you all there is, that is so mad, 

To seek for grapes on brambles or on briers : 

Nor none I trow, that hath a wit so bad, 

To set his hay for coneys over rivers ; 

Nor ye set not a drag-net for a hare. 

And yet the thing, that most is your desire, 

You do mis-seek with more travail and care. 

Make plain thine heart, that it be not knotted 

With hope or dread, and see thy will be bare 

From all affects, whom vice hath never spotted. 

Thyself content with that is thee assigned, 

And use it well that is to thee allotted ; 

Then seek no more out of thyself to find 

The thino; that thou hast sou^rht so lonf]j before : 

For thou slialt feel it sticking in thy mind. 

Made, if ye list to continue your sore, 

Let present pass, and gape on time to come, 

And deep thyself in travail more and more. . 

Henceforth, my Poins, this shall be all and sum ; 

These wretched fools shall have nought else of me ; 

But, to the great God, and to his doom, 

None other pain pray I for them to be ; 

But when the rage doth lead them from the right, 

That looking backward Virtue they may see, 

Even as she is, so goodly fair and bright : 

And whilst they cla;?p their lusts in arms across. 

Grant them, good Lord, as thou mayst of thy might, 

To fret inward, for losing such a loss. 



SIR TH03IAS WYATT's POEMS. 191 



OF THE COURTIER'S LIEE, WRITTEN TO 
JOHN POINS. 

Mine own John Poins, since je delight to know 
The causes why that homeward I me draw, 
And fly the press of Courts, where so they go ; 
Rather than to live thrall under the awe 
Of lordly looks ; wrapped within my cloak ; 
To will and lust learning to set a law : 
It is not that because I scorn or mock 
The power of them, whom fortune here hath lent 
Charge over us, of right to strike the stroke : 
But true it is that I have always meant 
Less to esteem them than the common sort, 
Of outward things that judge in their intent 
Without regard what inward doth resort. 
I grant, sometime of glory that the fire 
Doth touch my heart. Me hst not to report 
Blame by honour, and honour to desire. 
But how may I this honour now attain, 
That cannot dye the colour black a har ? 
My Poins, I cannot frame my tune to feign. 
To cloak the truth, for praise without desert 
Of them that Hst all vice for to retain. 
I cannot honour them that set their part 
With Venus, and Bacchus, all their life long ; 
Nor hold my peace of them, although I smart. 



192 SIR tho:mas wyatt's poems. 

I cannot crouch nor kneel to such a wrong ; 

To worship them hke God on earth alone, 

That are as wolves these selj lambs among. 

I cannot with my words complain and moan, 

And suffer nought ; nor smart without complaint : 

Nor turn the word that from my mouth is gone. 

I cannot speak and look like as a saint ; 

Use wiles for wit, and make deceit a pleasure 

Call craft counsel, for lucre still to paint. 

I cannot wrest the law to fill the coffer. 

With innocent blood to feed myself fat, 

And do most hurt, where that most help I offer. 

I am not he, that can allow the state 

Of high Caesar, and damn Cato to die. 

That with his death did scape out of the gate 

From Caesar's hands, if Livy doth not lie ; 

And would not live where liberty was lost ; 

So did his heart the common wealth apply. 

I am not he, such eloquence to boast. 

To make the crow in singing as the swan ; 

Kor call the lion of coward beasts the most ; 

That cannot take a mouse as the cat can : 

And he that dieth for hunger of the gold, 

Call him Alexander ; and say that Pan 

Passeth Apollo in music manifold : 

Praise Sir Topas for a noble tale. 

And scorn the story that the Knight told : 

Praise him for counsel that is drunk of ale ; 

Grin when he laughs, that beareth all the sway. 

Frown when he frowns, and groan when he is pale 



SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 193 

On others' lust to hang both night and day. 
None of these points could ever frame in me : 
My wit is nought, I cannot learn the way. 
And much the less of things that greater be, 
That asken help of colours to devise : 
To join the mean with each extremity, 
With nearest virtue aye to clothe the vice : 
And, as to purpose likewise it shall fall. 
To press the virtue that it may not rise : 
As drunkenness good fellowship to call ; 
The fiiendly foe, with his fair double face. 
Say he is gentle, and courteous therewithal ; 
Affirm that Favel hath a goodly grace 
In eloquence : and cruelty to name 
Zeal of justice, and change in time and place: 
And he that suffereth offence without blame, 
Call him pitiful ; and him true and plain. 
That raileth rechless unto each man's shame. 
Say he is rude, that cannot lie and feign ; 
The lecher a lover ; and tyranny 
To be the right of a prince's reign : 
I cannot I, no, no, it will not be. 
This is the cause that I could never yet 
Hang on their sleeves that weigh, as thou mayst see, 
A chip of chance more than a pound of wit : 
This maketh me at home to hunt and hawk ; 
And in foul weather at my book to sit ; 
In frost and snow, then with my bow to stalk ; 
No man doth mark whereso I ride or go : 
In lusty leas at hberty I walk ; 

13 



194 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

And of these news I feel nor weal nor woe ; 

Save that a clog doth hang yet at my heel. 

No force for that, for it is order'd so, 

That I may leap both hedge and dyke full well. 

I am not now in France, to judge the wine ; 

With savoury sauce those delicates to feel : 

Nor yet in Spain, where one must him incline, 

Eather than to be, outwardly to seem. 

I meddle not with wits that be so fine ; 

Nor Flander's cheer lets not my sight to deem 

Of black, and white ; nor takes my wits away 

With beastliness ; such do those beasts esteem, 

Nor I am not, where truth is given in prey 

For money, poison, and treason ; of some 

A common practice, used night and day. 

But I am here in Kent and Christendom, 

Among the Muses, where I read and rhyme ; 

Where if thou list, mine own John Poins, to come, 

Thou shalt be judge how I do spend my time. 



HOW TO USE THE COURT AND HIMSELF 

THEREIN, WRITTEN TO SIR FRANCIS BRIAN. 

A SPENDING hand that alway poureth out, 

Had need to have a bringer-in as fast ; 

And on the stone that still doth turn about, 

There groweth no moss : these proverbs yet do last ; 

Reason hath set them in so sure a place. 

That length of years their force can never waste. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 195 

When I remember this, and eke the case 
Wherein thou standst, I thought forthwith to write, 
Brian, to thee, who knows how great a grace 
In writing is, to counsel man the right. 
To thee therefore, that trots still up and down, 
And never rests ; but running day and night 
From realm to realm, from city, street, and town ; 
Why dost thou wear thy body to the bones ? 
And mightst at home sleep in thy bed of down : 
And drink good ale so nappy for the nones ; 
Feed thyself fat ; and heap up pound by pound. 
Ltkest thou not this ? No. Why ? For swine so 

groans 
In sty ; and chaw dung moulded on the ground ; 
And drivel on pearls, with head still in the manger : 
So of the harp the ass doth hear the sound : 
So sacks of dirt be fill'd. The neat courtier 
So serves for less than do these fatted swine. 
Though I seem lean and dry, withouten moisture, 
Yet will I serve my prince, my lord and thine ; 
And let them hve to feed the paunch that list ; 
So I may Hve to feed both me and mine. 
Bj God, well said. But what and if thou wist 
How to bring in, as fast as thou dost spend. 
That would I learn. And it shall not be miss'd 
To tell thee how. Now hark what I intend : 
Thou knowest well first, whoso can seek to please, 
Shall purchase friends, where truth shall but offend • 
Flee therefore truth, it is both wealth and ease. 
For though that truth of every man hath praise, 



196 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Full near that wind goeth truth in great misease. 

Use Virtue, as it goeth now-a-days, 

In word alone, to make thy language sweet : 

And of thy deed yet do not as thou says ; 

Else be thou sure, thou shalt be far unmeet 

To get thy bread ; each thing is now so scant, 

Seek still thy profit upon thy bare feet. 

Lend in no wise, for fear that thou do want, 

Unless it be as to a calf a cheese : 

But if thou can be sure to win a cant 

Of half at least. It is not good to leese. 

Learn at the lad, that in a long white coat. 

From under the stall, withouten lands or fees. 

Hath leapt into the shop ; who knows by rote 

This rule that I have told thee here before. 

Some time also rich age begins to dote ; 

See thou when there thy gain 'may be the more : 

Stay him by the arm whereso he walk or go ; 

Be near alway, and if he cough too sore, 

What he hath spit tread out ; and please him so. 

A diligent knave that picks his master's purse 

May please him so, that he, withouten mo', 

Executor is : And what is he the worse ? 

But if so chance, thou get nought of the man, 

The widow may for all thy pain disburse : 

A riveled skin, a stinking breath ; what then ? 

A toothless mouth shall do thy lips no harm ; 

The gold is good : and though she curse or ban. 

Yet where thee list thou mayst lie good and warm ; 

Let the old mule bite upon the bridle, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 197 

Whilst there do lie a sweeter in thy arm. 

In this also see that thou be not idle, 

Thy niece, thy cousin, sister, or thy daughter, 

If she be fair, if handsome be her middle. 

If thy better hath her love besought her, 

Avance his cause, and he shall help thy need : 

It is but love, turn thou it to a laughter. 

But ware, I say, so gold thee help and speed, 

That in this case thou be not so unwise 

As Pander was in such a like deed ; 

For he, the fool of conscience, was so nice, 

That he no gain would have for all his pain : 

Be next thyself, for friendship bears no price. 

Laughest thou at me ? why ? do I speak in vain ? 

No, not at thee, but at thy thrifty jest : 

Wouldst thou, I should, for any loss or gain 

Change that for gold that I have ta'en for best 

Next godly things, to have an honest name ? 

Should I leave that ? then take me for a beast. 

Nay then, farewell, and if thou care for shame, 

Content thee then with honest poverty ; 

With free tongue what thee misHkes, to blame, 

And for thy truth, sometime adversity. 

And therewithal this gift I shall thee give, 

In this world now little prosperity ; 

And coin to keep, as water in a sieve. 



PENITENTIAL PSALMS. 



DEDICATION 



TO 

THE EIGHT HONOURABLE AND HIS SINGULAR GOOD LORD, 

WILLIAM MAKQUIS OF XORTHAilPTON, 

EARL OF ESSEX, BARON OF KENDAL, LORD PARR, 

AND KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, 

YOTJR MOST BOUNDEN ORATOR AT COMMANDMENT, 

JOHN HARRINGTON, WISHETH HEALTH AND 

PROSPERITY WITH INCREASE OF VIRTUE, AND THE 

MERCY OF GOD FOR EVER. 

Considering tlie manifold duties and abundant 
service that I owe unto your good Lordship, right 
honourable and my singular good Lord, I cannot but 
see infinite causes why I, chiefly of all others, ought 
with all cheerful and ready endeavour to gratify 
your good Lordship by all means possible, and to 
apply myself wholly to the same, as one that would 
gladly, but can by no means be able to do accord- 
ingly as his bounden duty requireth : I cannot, I say, 
but see and acknowledge myself bounden, and not 
able to do such service as I owe, both for the inesti- 
mable benefits that your noble progenitors, and also 
your good Lordship hath shewed unto my parents and 
predecessors ; and also to myself, as to one least able 



202 DEDICATION. 

to do any acceptable service, though the will be at 
all times most ready. In token whereof, your Lord- 
ship shall at all times perceive by simple things that 
my little wit shall be able to invent, that if mine 
heart could do you any service, no labour or travail 
should withhold me from doing my duty ; and that 
if busy labour and the heart might be able to pay 
the duty that love oweth, your Lordship should in 
no point find me ingrate or unthankful. And to 
declare this my ready will, I have dedicated unto 
your name this little treatise, which, after I had pe- 
rused and by the advice of others (better learned 
than myself) determined to put it in print, that the 
noble fame of so worthy a Knight as was the author 
hereof. Sir Thomas Wyatt, should not perish but 
remain, as well for his singular learning as valiant 
deeds in martial feats, I thought that I could not 
find a more worthy patron for such a man's work 
than your Lordship, whom I have always known to 
be of so godly a zeal to the furtherance of God's 
holy and sacred Gospel, most humbly beseeching 
your good Lordship herein to accept my good will, 
and to esteem me as one that wisheth unto the same 
all honour, health,- and prosperous success. Amen. 
Your good Lordship's 

most humble at commandment, 

John Harrington. 



PENITENTIAL PSALMS. 



H. S. 

The great Macedon that out of Persia chased 

Darius, of whose hnge power all Asia rang; 

In the rich ark if Homer's rhymes he placed, 

Who feigned gests of heathen princes sang; 

What holy grave, what worthy sepulture 

To Wyatt's Psalms should Christians then purchase, 

Where he doth paint the lively faith and pure, 

The steadfast hope, the sweet return to grace 

Of just David by perfect penitence; 

Where rulers may see in a mirrour clear. 

The bitter fruits of false concupiscence, 

How Jewry bought Urias' death full dear. 

In princes hearts God's scourge y-printed deep, 

Ought them awake out of their smful sleep. 



THE PROLOGUE OF THE AUTHOR. 

Love, to give law unto his subjects' hearts, 
Stood in the eyes of Batsabd the bright ; 
And in a look anon himself converts 
Cruelly pleasant before King David's sight, 
First dazed his eyes, and further-forth he starts 
With venom'd breath, as softly as he might 
Touches his sinews, and overruns his bones 
With creeping fire, sparkled for the nones. 



204 SIR THOMAS WYATt's POEMS. 

And when he saw that kindled was the flame, 
The moist poison in his heart he lanced, 
So that the soul did tremble with the same ; 
And in this brawl as he stood entranced, 
Yielding unto the figure and the frame, 
That those fair eyes had in his presence glanced ; 
The form, that Love had printed in his breast. 
He honoureth as a thing of thinges best. 

So that, forgot the wisdom and forecast. 

Which woe to realms, when that the King doth 

lack; 
Forgetting eke God's Majesty as fast. 
Yea and his own ; forthwith he doth to make 
Urie to go into the fifld in haste, 
Urie, I say, that was his jewel's make, 
Under pretence of certain victory. 
For the enemies' swords a ready prey to be. 

Whereby he may enjoy her out of doubt. 
Whom more than God or himself he mindeth : 
And after he had brought this thing about. 
And of that lust possess'd himself, he findeth 
That hath and doth reverse and clean turn out 
Kings from kingdoms, and cities undermineth ; 
He blinded thinks, this train so blind and close, 
To blind all things, that nought may it disclose. 

But Nathan hath spied out this treachery. 
With rueful cheer ; and sets afore his face 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 205 

The great offence, outrage, and injury, 
That he hath done to God, as in this case, 
By murder for to cloak adultery : 
He sheweth eke from heaven the threats, alas ! 
So sternly sore this Prophet, this Nathan, 
That all amazed was this woful man. 

Like him that meets with horror and with fear ; 

The heat doth straight forsake the limbes cold, 

The colour eke droopeth down froiji his cheer ; 

So doth he feel his fire manifold, 

His heat, his lust, his pleasure all in fere 

Consume and waste : and straight his crown of gold, 

His purple pall, his sceptre he lets fall. 

And to the ground he throweth himself withal. 

Then pompous pride of state, and dignity 
Forthwith rebates repentant humbleness : 
Thinner vile cloth than clotheth poverty 
Doth scantly hide and clad his nakedness : 
His fair hoar beard of reverent gravity. 
With ruffled hair, knowing his wickedness : 
More like was he the selfsame repentance 
Than stately prince of worldly governance. 

His harp he taketh in hand to be his guide, 
Wherewith he offereth plaints, his soul to save, 
That from his heart distills on every side. 
Withdrawing himself into a dark deep cave 



206 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

Within the ground, wlierein he might him hide, 
Flying the hght, as in prison or grave ; 
In which, as soon as David entered had. 
The dark horror did make his soul adrad. 

But he, without prolonging or delay 

Of that, which might his Lord his God appease, 

Falleth on his knees, and with his harp, I say, 

Afore his breast yfraughted \vith disease 

Of stormy sighs, deep draughts of his decay, 

Dressed upright, seeking to counterpoise 

His song with sighs, and touching of the strings, 

"With tender heart, lo, thus to God he sings. 



DOMINE, NE IN FURORE.* 

O Lord ! since in my mouth thy mighty name 
SufFereth itself, my Lord, to name and call. 
Here hath my heart hope taken by the same ; 
That the repentance, which I have and shall. 
May at thy hand seek mercy, as the thing 
Of only comfort of wretched sinners all : 
Whereby I dare with humble bemoaning, 
By thy goodness, this thing of thee require : 
Chastise me not for my deserving 
According to thy just conceived ire. 

Lord ! I dread : and that I did not dread 

1 me repent ; and evermore desire 

* Psalm vi. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 207 

Thee Thee to dread. I open here, and spread 

My fault to thee : but thou, for thy goodness, 

Measure it not in largeness, nor in breade : 

Punish it not as asketh the greatness 

Of thy furor, provoked by mine offence. 

Temper, Lord, the harm of my excess. 

With mending will, that I for recompense 

Prepare again : and rather pity me ; 

For I am weak, and clean without defence ; 

More is the need I have of remedy. 

For of the whole the leche taketh no cure ; 

The sheep that strayeth the shepherd seeks to see. 

I, Lord, am stray'd; and, seke*. without recure. 

Feel all my limbs, that have rebelled, for fear 

Shake in despair, unless thou me assure : 

My flesh is troubled, my heart doth fear the spear : 

That dread of death, of death that ever lasts, 

Threateth of right, and draweth near and near. 

Much more my soul is troubled by the blasts 

Of these assaults, that come as thick as hail, 

Of worldly vanities, that temptation casts 

Against the bulwark of the fleshe frail. 

Wherein the soul in great perplexity 

Feeleth the senses with them that assail 

Conspire, corrupt by pleasure and vanity : 

Wliereby the wretch doth to the shade resort 

Of hope in Thee, in this extremity. 

But thou, Lord, how long after this sort 

Forbearest thou to see my misery ? 

* sick. 



208 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

Suffer me yet, in hope of some comfort 
Fear, and not feel that thou forgettest me. 
Return, O Lord : Lord, I thee beseech ! 
Unto thy old wonted benignity. 
Reduce, revive my soul : be thou the leche ; 
And reconcile the great hatred, and strife, 
That it hath ta'en against the flesh ; the wretch 
That stirred hath thy wrath by filthy hfe. 
See how my soul doth fret it to the bones : 
Inward remorse, so sharpeth it like a knife, 
That but Thou help the caitiff, that bemoans 
His great offence, it turneth anon to dust. 
Here hath thy mercy matter for the nones ; 
For if thy righteous hand, that is so just, 
Suffer no sin, or strike with dampnation. 
Thy infinite mercy want nedes it must 
Subject matter for his operation : 
For that in death there is no memory 
Among the dampned, nor yet no mention 
Of thy great name, ground of all glory. 
Then if I die, and go whereas I fear 
To think thereon, how shall thy great mercy 
Sound in my mouth unto the worldes ear ? 
For there is none, that can Thee laud, and love, 
For that thou wilt no love among them there. 
Suffer my cries the mercy for to move, 
That wonted is a hundred years' offence 
In a moment of repentance to remove. 
How ofl have I called up with diligence 
This slothful flesh long afore the day 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. . 209 

For to confess his fault, and negligence ; 
That to the den, for aught that I could say, 
Hath still returned to shrowd himself from cold ? 
Whereby it suffereth now for such delay, 
By mighty pains, instead of pleasures old. 
I wash my bed with tears continual 
To dull my sight, that it be never bold 
To stir my heart again to such a fall. 
Thus dry I up, among my foes, in woe. 
That with my fall do rise, and grow withal. 
And me beset even now where I am, so 
With secret traps, to trouble my penance. 
Some do present to my weeping eyes, lo. 
The cheer, the manner, beauty, or countenance 
Of her, whose look, alas ! did make me blind : 
Some other offer to my remembrance 
Those pleasant words, now bitter to my mind : 
And some shew me the power of my armour, 
Triumph, and conquest, and to my head assign'd 
Double diadem : some shew the f&:Tour 
Of people frail, palace, pomp, and riches. 
To these mermaids, and their baits of error 
I stop my ears, with help of thy goodness. 
And for I feel, it cometh alone of Thee 
That to my heart these foes have none access, 
I dare them bid, Avoid, wretches, and flee ; 
The Lord hath heard the voice of my complaint ; 
Your engines take no more effect in me : 
The Lord hath heard, I say, and seen me faint 
Under your hand, and pitieth my distress. 

14 



210 SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 

4 

He shall do make my senses, by constraint^ 
Obey the rule, that reason shall express : 
Where the deceit of that your glosing bait 
Made them usurp a power in all excess. 
Shamed be they all, that so do lie in wait 
To compass me, by missing of their prey ! 
Shame and rebuke redound to such deceit ! 
Sudden confusion, as stroke without delay, 
Shall so deface their crafty suggestion. 
That they to hurt my health no more assay 
Since I, O Lord, remain in thy protection. 



THE AUTHOR. 

"Whoso hath seen the sick in his fever. 

After truce taken with the heat or cold, 

And that the fit is past of his fervour, 

Draw fainting sighs ; let him, I say, behold 

Sorrowful David, after his langour, 

That with his tears, that from his eyen down roll'd, 

Paused his plaint, and laid adown his harp, 

Faithful record of all his sorrows sharp. 

It seemed now that of his fault the horror 
Did make afear'd no more his hope of grace ; 
The threats whereof in horrible terror 
Did hold his heart as in despair a space, 
Till he had will'd to seek for his succour ; 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 211 

Himself accusing, beknowing his case, 
Thinking so best his Lord to appease, 
And not yet healed he feeleth his disease. 

Now seemeth fearful no more the dark cave, 
That erst did make his soal for to tremble ; 
A place devout, of refuge for to save 
The succourless it rather doth resemble : 
For who had seen so kneeling within the grave 
The chief pastor of the Hebrews' assemble, 
Would judge it made bj tears of penitence 
A sacred place worthy of reverence. 

With vapour'd eyes he looketh here and there. 
And when he hath a while himself bethought. 
Gathering his spirits, that were dismay 'd for fear, 
His harp again into his hand he raught, 
Tuning accord by judgment of his ear. 
His heart's bottom for a sigh he sought ; 
And therewithal upon the hollow tree 
With strained voice again thus'crieth he. 



BEATI, QUORUM REMISSE SUNT INIQUITATES.* 

Oh ! happy are they that have forgiveness got 
Of their offence, not by their penitence 
As by merit, which recompenseth not ; 
Although that yet pardon hath not offence 

* Psalm xxxii. 



212 SIR THOMAS wyatt's poems. 

Without the same ; but by the goodness 

Of Him that hath perfect intelligence 

Of heart contrite, and covereth fhe greatness 

Of sin within a merciful discharge. 

And happy are they that have the -wilfulness 

Of lust restrain'd afore it went at large, 

Provoked by the dread of God's furor ; 

Whereby they have not on their backs the charge 

Of others' faults to suffer the dolor ; 

For that their fault was never execute 

In open sight, example of error. 

And happy is he to whom God doth impute 

No more his fault, by knowledging his sin : 

But cleansed now the Lord doth him repute ; 

As adder fresh new stripped from his skin : 

Nor in his sprite is aught undiscovered. 

I, for because I hid it still within, 

Tliinking by state in fault to be preferr'd, 

Do find by hiding of my fault my harm ; 

As he that findeth his health hindered 

By secret wound concealed from the charm 

Of leech's cure, that else had had redress ; 

And feel my bones consume, and wax unfirm 

By daily rage, roaring in excess. 

Thy heavy hand on me was so increased 

Both day and night, and held my heart in press, 

With pricking thoughts bereaving me my rest ; 

That withered is my lustiness away. 

As summer heats that have the green oppressed, 

Wlierefore I did another way assay. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT'S POEMS. 213 

And sought forthwith to open in thy sight 

My fauh, my fear, my filthiness, I say, 

And not to liide from Thee my great unright. 

I shall, quoth I, against myself confess 

Unto thee. Lord, all my sinful plight : 

And thou forthwith didst wash the wickedness 

Of mine offence. Of truth right thus it is. 

Wherefore they, that have tasted thy goodness, 

At me shall take example as of this. 

And pray, and seek in time for time of grace. 

Then shall the storms and floods of harm him miss, 

And him to reach shall never have the space. 

Thou art my refuge, and only safeguard 

From the troubles that compass me the place. 

Such joys as he that scapes his enemies ward 

With loosed bands, hath in his liberty ; 

Such is my joy, thou hast to me prepared. 

That, as the seaman in his jeopardy 

By sudden light perceived hath the port ; 

•So by thy great merciful property 

Within thy book thus read I my comfort : 

'I shall thee teach, and give understanding, 

And point to thee what Tvay thou shalt resort 

For thy address, to keep thee from wandering : 

Mine eyes shall take the charge to be thy guide : 

I ask thereto of thee only this thing, 

Be not like horse, or mule, that men do ride, 

That not alone doth not his master know. 

But for the good thou dost him must be tied, 

And bridled least his guide he bite or throw.' 



214 SIR THOMAS WTATT's TOEMS. 

Oh ! diverse are the chastisings of sin 

In meat, in drink, in breath, that man doth blow, 

In sleep, in watch, in fretting still within : 

That never suffer rest unto the mind 

Fiird with offence ; that new and new begin 

With thousand fears the heart to strain and bind : 

But for all this, he that in God doth trust 

Witli mercy shall himself defended find. 

Joy and rejoice, I say, you that be just 

In Him, that maketh and holdeth you so still : 

In Him your glory always set you must, . 

All you that be of upright heart and will. 



THE AUTHOR. 

This song ended, David did stint his voice ; 
And in that while he about with his eye 
Did seek the dark cave ; with which, withouten noise. 
His silence seemed to argue, and reply 
Upon his peace this peace, that did rejoice 
The soul with mercy, that mercy so did call, 
And found mercy at plentiful Mercy's hand, 
Never denied, but where it was withstand. 

As the servant that in his master's face 
Finding pardon of his passed offence. 
Considering his great goodness and his grace, 
Glad tears distills, as gladsome recompense : 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 215 

Right so David seemed in the place 
A marble image of singular reverence, 
Carved in the rock, with eyes and hand on high 
Made as bj craft to plain, to sob, to sigh. 

This while a beam that bright sun forth sendeth, 
That sun, the which was never cloud could hide, 
Pierceth the cave, and on the harp descendeth : 
Whose glancing light the chords did overglide, 
And such lustre upon the harp extendeth. 
As light of lamp upon the gold clean tried, 
The lome whereof into his eyes did start. 
Surprised with joy by penance of the heart. 

He then inflamed with far more hot affect 
Of God, than he was erst of Batsabe, 
His left foot did on the earth erect. 
And just thereby remaineth the other knee ; 
To the left side his weight he doth direct : 
For hope of health his harp again taketh he ; 
His hand, his tune, his mind eke sought this lay, 
Which to the Lord with sober voice did say, 



DOMINE, NE m FURORE TUG.* 

O Lord ! as I have thee both pray'd, and pray, 
(Although in Thee be no alteration. 
But that we men, like as ourselves, we say, 
Measuring thy justice by our mutation) 

♦ Psalm xxxviii. 



216 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS* 

Chastise me not, Lord ! in thy furor, 

Nor me correct in wrathful castigation : 

For that thy arrows of fear, of terror, 

Of sword, of sickness, of famine, and of fire, 

Stick deep in me : I, lo ! from mine error, 

Am plunged up ; as horse out of the mire 

With stroke of spur ; such is thy hand on me, 

That in my flesh, for terror of thy ire. 

Is not one point of firm stability ; 

Nor in my bones there is no steadfastness : 

Such is iliy dread of mutability ; 

For that I know my frailful wickedness. 

For why ? my sins above my head are bound, 

Like heavy weight, that doth my force oppress ; 

Under the which I stoop and bow to the ground, 

As willow plant haled by violence. 

And of my flesh each not well cured wound, 

That fester'd is by folly and negligence. 

By secret lust hath rankled under skin. 

Not duly cured by my penitence. 

Perceiving thus the tyranny of sin. 

That with his weight hath humbled and depressed 

My pride ; by gnawing of the worm within. 

That never dieth, I live withouten rest. 

So are my entrails infect with fervent sore, 

Feeding the harm that hath my wealth oppress'd, 

That in my flesh is left no healtli therefore. 

So wondrous great hath been my vexation. 

That it hath forced my heart to cry and roar. 

O Lord ! thou knowest the inward contemplation 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 217 

Of my desii^e : thou knowest my sighs and plaints : 
Thou knowest the tears of my lamentation 
Cannot express my heart's inward restraints. 
My heart panteth, my force I feel it quail ; 
My sight, my eyes, my look decays and faints. 
And when mine enemies did me most assail, 
My friends most sure, wherein I set most trust, 
Mine own virtues, soonest then did fail 
And stand apart ; reason and wit unjust, 
As kin unkind, were farthest gone at need : 
So had they place their venom out to thrust. 
That sought my death by naughty word and deed. 
Their tongues reproach, thek wit did fraud apply. 
And I, like deaf and dumb, forth my way yede, 
Like one that hears not, nor hath to reply 
One word again ; knowing that from thine hand 
These things proceed, and thou. Lord, shalt supply 
My trust in that, wherein I stick and stand. 
Yet have I had great cause to dread and fear, 
That thou wouldst give my foes the over hand ; 
For in my fall they shewed such pleasant cheer. 
And therewithal I alway in the lash 
Abide the stroke ; and with me every where 
I bear my fault, that greatly doth abash 
My doleful cheer ; for I my fault confess. 
And my desert doth all my comfort dash. 
In the mean while mine enemies still increase ; 
And my provokers hereby do augment. 
That without cause to hurt me do not cease : 
In evil for good against me they be bent, 



218 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

And hinder shall my good pursuit of grace. 
Lo ! now, my God, that seest my whole intent ! 
My Lord, I am, thou knowest, in what case ; 
Forsake me not, be not far from me gone. 
Haste to my help ; haste, Lord, and haste apace, 
O Lord, the Lord of all my health alone. 



THE AUTHOR. 

Like as the pilgrim, that in a long way 
Fainting for heat, provoked by some wind, 
Li some fresh shade lieth down at mid of day : 
So doth of David the wearied voice and mind 
Take breath of sighs, when he had sung this lay, 
Under such shade as sorrow hath assigned : 
And as the one still minds his voyage end. 
So doth the other to mercy still pretend. 

On sonour chords his fingers he extends. 
Without hearing or judgment of the sound : 
Down from his eyes a stream of tears descends. 
Without feeling, that trickle on the ground. 
As he that bleeds in bain right so intends 
The altered senses to that that they are bound. 
But sigh and weep he can none other thing, 
And look up still unto the heavens' King. 

But who had been without the cave's mouth 
And heard the tears and sighs that him did strain, 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 219 

He would have sworn there had out of the south 
A lukewarm wind brought forth a smoky rain. 
But that so close the cave was and uncouth 
That none but God was record of his pain. 
Else had the wind blown in all Israel's ears 
Of their King the woful plaint and tears. 

Of which some part when he up supped had, 
Like as he, whom his own thought affrays. 
He turns his look ; him seemeth that the shade 
Of his offence again his force assays 
By violent despair on him to lade ; 
Starting like him, whom sudden fear dismays, 
His voice he strains, and from his heart out brings 
This song, that I note * whether he cries or sings. 



MISERERE MEI, DEUS.f 

Rue on me. Lord, for thy. goodness and grace, 

That of thy nature art so bountiful ; 

For that goodness that in the world doth brace 

Repugnant natures in quiet wonderful ; 

And for thy mercies number without end 

In heaven and earth perceived so plentiful. 

That over all they do themselves extend, 

For those mercies much more than man can sin, 

Do away my sins, that so thy grace offend 

Ofttimes again. Wash, wash me well within, 

* i. e., ne Tvote, know not. f Psalm li. 



220 SIR THOMAS wyatt's poems. 

And from my sin, that thus makes me afraid, 

Make thou me clean, as aye thy wont hath been. 

For unto Thee no number can be laid 

For to prescribe remissions of oflfence 

In hearts returned, as thou thyself hast said ; 

And I beknow my fault, my negligence : 

And in my sight my sin is fixed fast, 

Thereof to have more perfect penitence. 

To Thee alone, to Thee have I trespass'd ; 

For none can measure my fault. but thou alone : 

For in thy sight, I have not been aghast 

For to offend ; judging thy sight as none, 

So that my fault were hid from sight of man ; 

Thy majesty so from my mind was gone. 

Tliis know I, and repent ; pardon Thou then ; 

"Wliereby Thou shalt keep still thy word stable, 

Thy justice pure and clean, because that when 

I pardoned am, that forthwith justly able 

Just I am judged by justice of thy grace. 

For I myself, lo ! thing most unstable. 

Formed in offence, conceived in like case, 

Am nouglit but sin from my nativity. 

Be not these said for mine excuse, alas ! 

But of thy help to shew necessity : 

For, lo ! Thou lovest truth of the inward heart, 

Which yet doth live in my fidelity. 

Though I have fallen by failty overthwart: 

For wilful malice led me not the way 

So much as hath the flesh drawn me apart. 

Wherefore, Lord, as thou hast done alway. 



SIR THOMAS WYATt's POEMS. 221 

Teach me the hidden wisdom of thy lore ; 

Since that my faith doth not yet decay. 

And, as the Jews do heal the leper sore, 

With hissop cleanse, cleanse me and I am clean. 

Thou shalt me wash, and more than snow therefore 

I shall be white, how foul my fault hath been. 

Thou of my health shalt gladsome tidings bring, 

When from above remission shall be seen 

Descend on earth ; then shall for joy up spring 

The bones, that were before consumed to dust. 

Look not, O Lord ! upon mine offending. 

But do away my deeds that are unjust. 

Make a clean heart in the middle of my breast 

With spirit upright voided from filthy lust. 

From thine eyes cure cast me not in unrest, 

Nor take from me thy Spirit of Holiness. 

Render to me joy of thy help and rest : 

My will confirm with the Spirit of Steadfastness ; 

And by this shall these godly things ensue. 

Sinners I shaU into thy ways address : 

They shall return to Thee, and thy grace sue. 

My tongue shall praise thy justification ; 

My mouth shall spread thy glorious praises true. 

But of thyself, God, this operation 

It must proceed ; by purging me from blood, 

Among the just that I may have relation : 

And of thy lauds for to let out the flood, 

Thou must, O Lord, my lips first unloose. 

For if thou hadst esteemed pleasant good 

The outward deeds, that outward men disclose, 



222 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

I would have ofFer'd unto Thee sacrifice : 

But thou delightest not in no such glose 

Of outward deed, as men dream and devise. 

The sacrifice that the Lord liketh most 

Is spirit contrite : low heart in humble wise 

Thou dost accept, God, for pleasant host. 

Make Sion, Lord, according to thy will 

Inward Sion, the Sion of the ghost : 

Of heart's Jerusalem strength the walls still : 

Then shalt Thou take for good the outward deeds, 

As a sacrifice thy pleasure to fulfill. 

Of Thee alone thus all our good proceeds. 



THE AUTHOR. 

Of deep secrets, that David there did sing, 

Of Mercy, of Faith, of Frailty, of Grace ; 

Of God's goodness, and of Justifying 

The greatness did so astonny himself apace. 

As who might say. Who hath expressed this thing ? 

I sinner, I, what have I said ? alas ! 

That God's goodness would in my song entreat, 

Let me again consider and repeat. 

And so he doth, but not expressed by word ; 
But in his heart he turneth oft and paiseth 
Each word, that erst his lips might forth afford : 
He pants, he pauseth, he wonders, he praiseth 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 223 

The Mercj, that hideth of Justice the sword : 
The Justice that so his promise complisheth 
For his word's sake to worthiless desert, 
That gratis his grace to men doth depart. 

Here hath he comfort when he doth measure 
Measureless mercy to measureless fault. 
To prodigal sinners infinite treasure, 
Treasure celestial, that never shall default : 
Yea, when that sin shall fail, and may not dure, 
Mercy shall reign, against whom shall no assault 
Of hell prevail : by whom, lo ! at this day 
Of Heaven gates Remission is the key. 

And when David had pondered well and tried, 
And seeth himself not utterly deprived 
From light of Grace, that dark of sin did hide, 
He findeth his hope much therewith revived ; 
He dare importune the Lord on every side. 
For he knoweth well that to Mercy is ascribed 
Respectless labour, importune, cry, and call ; 
And thus beginneth his song therewithal : 



DOMINE, EXAUDI ORATIONEM ME AM.* 

Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry pass 
Unto thee. Lord, without impediment. 
Do not from me, turn thy merciful face, 
Unto myself leaving my government. 

♦ Psalm cii. 



224 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 

In time of trouble and adversity 

Incline unto me thine ear and thine intent : 

And when I call, help my necessity ; 

Readily grant the effect of my desire : 

These bold demands do please thy Majesty : 

And eke my case such haste doth well require. 

For like as smoke my days are past away, 

My bones dried up, as furnace with the fire ; 

My heart, my mind is withered up like hay ; 

Because I have forgot to take my bread, 

My bread of life, the word of Truth, I say. 

And for my plaintful sighs and for my dread, 

My bones, my strength, my very force of mind 

Cleaved to the flesh, and from the spirit were fled, 

As desperate thy mercy for to find. 

So made I me the solen pelican, 

And like the owl, that flieth by proper kind 

Light of the day, and hath herself beta'en 

To ruin life out of all company. 

With waker care, that with this woe began, 

Like the sparrow was I solitary. 

That sits alone under the houses' eaves. 

This while my foes conspired continually, 

And did provoke the harm of my disease. 

Wherefore like ashes my bread did me savour ; 

Of thy just word the taste might not me please : 

Wherefore my drink I tempered with liquor 

Of weeping tears, that from mine eyes did rain. 

Because I know the ^vrath of thy furor, 

Provoked by right, had of my pride disdain. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 225 

For. thou didst lift me up to throw me down ; 
To teach me how to know myself again : 
Whereby I knew that helpless I should drown. 
My days like shadow decline, and I do cry : 
And Thee for ever eternity doth crown ; 
World without end doth last thy memory. 
For this frailty, that yoketh all mankind, 
Thou shalt awake, and rue this misery : 
Rue on Sion, Sion that as I find 
Is the people that live under thy law. 
For now is time, the time at hand assign'd, 
The time so long that thy servants draw 
In great desire to see that pleasant day ; 
Day of redeeming Sion from sin's awe. 
For they have ruth to see in such decay 
In dust and stones this wretched Sion lower. 
Then the Gentiles shall dread thy name alway ; 
All earthly kings thy glory shall honour, ^ 

Then, w^hen thy grace thy Sion thus redeemeth, 
When thus Thou hast declared thy mighty power. 
The lord Jiis servants wishes so esteemeth 
That He him turneth unto the poor's request. 
To our descent this to be written seemeth. 
Of all comforts as consolation best : 
And they, that then shall be regenerate. 
Shall praise the Lord therefore, both most and least. 
For He hath look'd from the height of his estate, 
The Lord from heaven in earth hath look'd on us, 
To hear the moan of them that are algate 
In foul bondage ; to loose, and to discuss 

15 



226 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

The sons of death out from their deadly bond ; 

To give thereby occasion glorious 

In this Sion his holy name to stand ; 

And in Jerusalem his lauds, lasting aye, 

When in one Church the people of the land 

And realms been gathered to serve, to laud, to pray 

The Lord above, so just and merciful. 

But to this samble * running in the way. 

My strength faileth to reach it at the full. 

He hath abridged my days, they may not dure 

To see that term, that term so wonderful : 

Although I have with hearty will, and cure, 

Pray'd to the Lord, take me not, Lord, away 

In midst of my years : though thine ever sure 

Remain eterne, whom time cannot decay. 

Thou wrought'st the earth, thy hands the heavens 

did make : 
The^^ shall perish, and thou shalt last alway ; 
And all things age shall wear, and overtake. 
Like cloth, and Thou shalt change them like apparel, 
Turn, and translate, and thou in worth it take ; 
But Thou thyself thyself remainest well 
That Thou wast erst, and shalt thy years extend. 
Then, since to this there may no thing rebel, 
The greatest comfort that I can pretend, 
Is that the children of thy servants dear. 
That in thy word are got, shall without end 
Before thy face be stablish'd all in fear. 

♦ assembly. 



SIR THOMAS WTATT'S POEMS. 227 



THE AUTHOR. 

When David had perceived in his breast 
The Spirit of God return, that was exiled ; 
Because he knew he hath alone expressed 
These same great things, that greater Spirit com- 
piled ; 
As shawm or pipe lets out the sound impress'd, 
By music's art forged tofore and filed ; 
I say when David had perceived this, 
The spirit of comfort in him revived is. 

For thereupon he maketh argument 
Of reconciling unto the Lord's grace ; 
Although sometime to prophesy have lent 
Both brute beasts, and wicked hearts a place. 
But our David judgeth in his intent 
Himself by penance, clean out of this case, 
Whereby he hath remission of offence. 
And ginneth to allow his pain and penitence. 

But when he weigheth the fault, and recompense. 
He damneth this his deed and findeth plain 
Atween them two no whit equivalence ; 
Whereby he takes all outward deed in vain 
To bear the name of rightful penitence ; 
Which is alone the heart returned again. 
And sore contrite, that doth his fault bemoan ; 
And outward deed the si^rn or fruit alone. 



228 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

With this he doth defend the sly assault 

Of vain allowance of his own desert ; 

And all the glory of his forgiven fiiult 

To God alone he doth it whole convert ; 

His own merit he findeth in default : 

And whilst he pondereth these things in his heart, 

His knee his arm, his hand sustained his chin, 

When he his song again thus did begin. 



DE PROFUNDIS CLAMAVI AD TE, DOMINE.* 

From depth of sin, and from a deep despair, 
From depth of death, from depth of heart's sorrow, 
From this deep cave, of darkness deep repair. 
Thee have I called, O Lord, to be my borrow. 
Thou in my voice, O Lord, perceive and hear 
My heart, my hope, my plaint, my overthrow. 
My will to rise : and let by grant appear. 
That to my voice thine ears do well attend ; 
No place so far, that to Thee is not near ; 
No depth so deep, that thou ne mayst extend 
Thine ear thereto ; hear then my woful plaint : 
For, Lord, if thou observe what men offend, 
And put thy native mercy in restraint ; 
If just exaction demand recompense; 
Who may endure, O Lord ? who shall not faint 
At such accompt ? so dread, not reverence 
Should reign at large. But thou seekest rather love ; 

* Psalm cxxx. 



SIR THOMAS TTYATT's POEMS. 229 

For in thy hand is Mercy's residence ; 
By hope whereof Thou dost our hearts eke move. 
I in the Lord have set my confidence : 
My soul such trust doth evermore approve : 
Thy holy word of eterne excellence. 
Thy mercy's promise, that is alway just, 
Have been my stay, my pillar, and defence. 
My soul in God hath more desirous trust, 
Than hath the watchman looking for the day, 
For his relief, to quench of sleep the thrust 
Let Israel trust unto the Lord alway ; 
For grace and favour are his property : 
Plenteous ransom shall come with him, I say, 
And shall redeem ali^ur iniquity. 



■u 



THE AUTHOE. 

This word Redeem, that in his mouth did sound, 

Did put David, it seemeth unto me. 

As in a trance, to stare upon the ground. 

And with his thought the height of heaven to see : 

Where he beholds the Word that should confound 

The word of death, by humility to be 

In mortal mg.id, in mortal habit made, 

Eternity in mortal vail to shade. 

He seeth that Word, when full ripe time should 

come, 
Do away that vail by fervent affection, 



230 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POExMS. 

Torn of with death, for Death should have her doom, 
And leapeth lighter from such corruption : 
The glute of light, that in the air doth lome, 
Man redeemeth, death hath her destruction : 
That mortal vail hath immortality ; 
To David assurance of his iniquity. 

Whereby he frames this reason in his heart, 
That goodness, which doth not forbear his son 
From death for me, and can thereby convert. 
My death to Hfe, my sin to salvation, 
Both can and will a smaller grace depart 
To him, that sueth by humble supplication : 
And since I have his larger grace assay'd. 
To ask this thing why am I tjjien afraid? 

He grahteth most to them that most do crave, 
And He delights in suit without respect. 
Alas, my son pursues me to the grave. 
Suffered by God my sin for to correct. 
But of my sin, since I may pardon have, 
My son's pursuit shall shortly be reject ; 
Then will I crave with sured confidence. 
And thus beginneth the suit of his pretence. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 231 



DOMINE, EXAUDI ORATIONEM MEAM.* 

Hear my prayer, Lord ; hear my request ; 
Complish my boon ; answer to my desire ; 
Not by desert, but for thine own behest ; 
In whose firm truth Thou promised mine empire 
To stand stable : and after thy justice, 
Perform, Lord, that thing that I require. 
But not of Law after the form and guise 
To enter judgment with thy thrall bondslave. 
To plead his right ; for in such manner wise 
Before thy sight no man his right shall save. 
For of myself, lo I this my righteousness 
By scourge, and whip, and pricking spurs, I have. 
Scant risen up, such is my beastliness : 
For that mine enemy hath pursued my life, 
And in the dust hath soiled my lustiness ; 
To foreign realms, to flee his rage so rife. 
He hath me forced ; as dead to hide my head. 
And for because, within myself at strife. 
My heart, and spirit, with all my force, were fled, 
I had recourse to times that have been past. 
And did remember thy deeds in all my dread. 
And did peruse thy works that ever last ; 
Whereby I know above these wonders all 
Thy mercies were : then lift I up in haste 

* Psalm cxliii. 



232 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

My hands to Thee ; my soul to Thee did call, 

Like barren soil, for moisture of thy grace. 

Haste to my help, Lord, afore I fall ; 

For sure I feel my spirit doth faint apace. 

Turn not thy face from me that I be laid 

In count of them that headlong down do pass 

Into the pit : Shew me betimes thine aid, 

For on thy grace I wholly do depend : 

And in thy hand since all my health is staid, 

Do me to know what way, thou wilt, I bend ; 

For unto thee I have raised up my mind. 

Rid me, Lord, from them that do entend 

My foes to be ; for I have me assigned 

Alway within thy secret protection. 

Teach me thy will, that I by thee may find 

The way to work the same in affection : 

For thou, my God, thy blessed Spirit upright 

In laud of truth shall be my direction. 

Thou, for thy name. Lord, shalt revive my sprite 

Within the right, that I receive by Thee : 

Whereby my hfe of danger shall be quite. 

Thou hast fordone the great iniquity, 

That vex'd my soul : Thou shalt also confound 

My foes, O Lord, for thy benignity ; 

For thine am I, thy servant aye most bound. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 233 



NOLI EMULARI IN MALIGNA.* 

Altho thou see th' outrageous climb aloft, 
Envy not thou his blind prosperity. 
The wealth of wretches, tho' it seemeth soft, 
Move not thy heart by their felicity. 
They shall be found like grass, turn'd into hay, 
And as the herbs that wither suddenly. 
Stablish thy trust in God : seek right alway. 
And on the earth thou shalt inhabit long. 
Feed, and increase such hope from day to day ; 
And if with God thou time thy hearty song. 
He shall thee give what so thy heart can lust 
Cast upon God thy will, that rights thy wrong ; 
Give him the charge, for He upright and just 
Hath cure of thee, and eke, of thy cares all ; 
And He shall make thy truth to be discust. 
Bright as the sun, and thy rightwiseness shall 
(The cursed wealth, though now do it deface) 
Shine like the daylight that we the noon call. 
Patiently abide the Lord's assured grace : 
Bear with even mind the trouble that he sends ; 
Dismay thee not, though thou see the purchase 
Increase of some ; for such Hke luck God sends 
To wicked folk. 
Restrain thy mind from wrath that aye offends. 

* Psalm xxxvii. 



234 SIR THOMAS WTATt's POEMS. 

Do way all rage, and see thou do eschew 

Bj their like deed such deeds for to commit ; 

For wicked folk their overthrow shall rue. 

Who patiently abides, and do not flit 

They shall possede the world from heir to heir ; 

The wicked shall of all his wealth be quit 

So suddenly, and that without repair, 

That all his pomp, and all his strange array 

Shall from thine eye depart, as blast of air, 

The sober then the world shall wield I say, 

And live in wealth and peace so plentiful. 

Him to destroy the wicked shall assay. 

And gnash his teeth eke with groaning ireful ; 

The Lord shall scorn the threatenings of the wretch, 

For he doth know the tide is nigh at full 

When he shall sink, and no hand shall him seech. 

They have unsheathed eke their bloody bronds, 

And bent their bow to prove if they might reach 

To overthrow the 

Bare of relief the harmless to devour. 

The sword shall pierce the heart of such that fonds : 

Their bow shall break in their most endeavour. 

A little living gotten rightfully 

Passeth the riches, and eke the high power 

Of that, that wretches have gathered wickedly. 

Perish shall the wicked's posterity. 

And God shall 'stablish the just assuredly. 

The jilst man's days the Lord doth know, and see ! 

Their heritage shall last for evermore. 

And of their hope beguil'd they shall not be, 



SIR THo:vrAs wyatt's poems. 235 

When dismold days shall wrap the other sore. 
They shall be full when other faint for food, 
Therewhilst shall fail these wicked men therefore. 
To God's enemies such end shall be allow'd. 
As hath lamb's grease wasting in the fire. 
That is consum'd into a smoky cloud. 
Borroweth th' unjust without will or desire 
To yield again ; the just freely doth give, 
Where he seeth need : as mercy doth require. 
Who will'th him well for right therefore shall leve ; 
Who banish him shall be rooted away. 
His steps shall God direct still and relieve. 
And please him shall what life him lust essay ; 
And though he fall under foot, lie shall not he, 
Catching his hand for God shall straight him stay : 

Nor yet his seed foodless seen for to be. 
The just to all men merciful hath been ; 
Busy to do well, therefore his seed, I say. 
Shall have abundance alway fresh and green. 
Flee ill ; do good ; that thou may'st last alway. 
For God doth love for evermore the upright. 
Never his chosen doth he cast away ; 
For ever he them mindeth day and night ; 
And wicked seed alway shall waste to nought, 
The just shall wield the world as their own right, 
And long thereon shall dwell, as they have wrought. 
With wisdom shall the wise man's mouth him able ; 
His tongue shall speak alway even as it ought. 
With God's learning he hath his heart stable, 



236 SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 

His foot therefore from sliding shall be sure ! 

The wicked watcheth the just for to disable, 

And for to slay him doth his busy cure. 

But God will not suffer him for to quail ; 

By tyranny, nor yet by fault unpure, 

To be condemn'd in judgment without fail. 

Await therefore the coming of the Lord ! 

Live with his laws in patience to prevail. 

And He shall raise thee of thine own accord 

Above the earth, in surety to behold 

The wicked's death, that thou may it record, 

I have well seen the wicked sheen like gold : 

Lusty and green as laurel lasting aye. 

But even anon and scant his seat was cold 

When I have pass'd again the selfsame way ; 

Where he did reign, he was not to be found : 

Vanish'd he was for all his fresh array. 

Let uprightness be still thy steadfast ground. 

Follow the right ; such one shall alway find 

Himself in peace and plenty to abound. 

All wicked folk reversed shall untwind. 

And wretchedness* shall be the wicked's end. 

Health to the just from God shall be assign'd. 

He shall them strength whom trouble should offend. 

The Lord shall help I say, and them deliver 

From cursed hands, and health unto them send, 

For that in Him they set their trust for ever. 



SIR THOMAS WYATT's POEMS. 237 



AN EPITAPH OF SIR THOMAS GRAVENER, 
KNIGHT. 

Under this stone there lieth at rest 
A friendly man, a worthy knight ; 
Whose heart and mind was ever prest 
To favour truth, to further right. 

The poor's defence, his neighbour's aid, 
Most kind always unto his kin ; 
That stint all strife, that might be stayed ; 
Whose gentle grace great love did win. 

A man, that was full earnest set 
To serve his prince at all assays : 
No sickness could him from it let ; 
Which was the shortening of his days. 

His life was good, he died full weU ; 
The body here, the soul in bliss 
With length of words why should I tell, 
Or farther shew, that well known is ; 
Since that the tears of more and less, 
Right well declare his worthiness. 

Vivit post funera Virtus, 



238 SIR THOMAS WTATT's POEMS. 



SIR ANTONIE SENTLEGER OF SIR T. WYATT. 

Thus lieth the dead, that whilome lived here 
Among the dead that quick go on the ground ; 
Though he be dead, yet doth he quick appear 
By immortal fame that death cannot confound 
His life for aye, his fame in trump shall sound. 
Though he be dead, yet is he thus alive : 
No death that life from Wyatt can deprive. 



THE END. 



ESTDEX OF FIRST LINES. 



A FACE that should content me wondrous well, 168. 

A Lady gave me a gift she had not, 1€5. 

A spending hand that alway poureth out, 194. 

Absence, absenting causeth me to complain, 147. 

Accused though I be without desert, 179. 

After great storms the calm returns, 60. 

Ah! Eobin, 90. 

Ah ! my heart, what aileth thee, 140. 

Alas ! the grief, and deadly woful smart, 71. 

Alas ! poor man, what hap have I, 110. 

Alas, Madam, for steahng of a kiss, 170. 

All in thy look my life doth whole depend, 175 

All heavy minds, 68. 

Altho' thou see th' outrageous climb aloft, 233. 

And if an eye may save or slay, 64. 

And wilt thou leave me thus. 111. 

As power and wit will me assist, 113. 

At last withdraw your cruelty, 102. 

At most mischief, 79. 

Avising the bright beams of those fair eyes, 10. 

Because I still kept thee fro' lies and blame, 8. 
Behold, Love, thy power how she despiseth, 22. 
Blame not my lute ! for he must sound, 98. 

Caesar, when that the traitor of Egypt. 6. 
Comfort thyself, my woful heart, 70. 

Deem as ye list upon good cause, 149. 
Desire, alas, my master and my foe, 169. 



240 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 

Disdain me not without desert, 43. 

Divers doth use, as I have heard and know, 19. 

Driven by desire I did this deed, 180. 

Each man me telleth I change most my devise, 7. 

Ever my hap is slack and slow in coming, 12. 

Farewell, Love, and all thy laws for ever, 18. 

Farewell the heart of cruelty, 36. 

Forget not yet the tried intent, 126. 

For shamefast harm of great and hateful need, 169. 

For to love her for her looks lovely, 24. 

For want of will in woe I plain, 44. 

From depth of sin, and from a deep despair, 228. 

From these high hills as when a spring doth fall, 173. 

Full well it may be seen, 119. 

Give place, all ye that doth rejoice, 137. 
Go, burning sighs, unto the frozen heart, 23. 

Hate whom ye list, for I care not, 141. 

Hear my prayer, Lord ; hear my request, 231. 

Heart oppress' d with desperate thought, 119. 

Heaven, and earth, and all that hear me plain, 69. 

Help me to seek ! for I lost it there, 24. 

He is not dead, that sometime had a fall, 177. 

How oft have I, my dear and cruel foe, 13. 

How should I, 134. 

I abide, and abide ; and better abide, 20. 

I am as I am, and so will I be, 150. 

I find no peace, and all my war is done, 9. 

I have sought long with steadfastness, 75. 

I love, loved; and so doth she, 104. 

I see, that chance hath chosen me, 53. 

If amorous faith, or if a heart unfeigned, 15. 

If chance assign'd, 78. 

If every man might him avaunt, 45. 

If fancy would favour, 65. 

If in the world there be more woe, 88. 

If it be so that I forsake thee, 27. 

If thou wilt mighty be, flee from the rage, 56. 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 241 

If waker care ; if sudden pale colour, 5. 

If with complaint the pain might be expressed, 128. 

In doubtful breast whilst motherly pity, 170. 

In aeternum I was once determed, 91. 

In Court to serve decked with fresh array, 178. 

In faith I wot not what to say, 37. 

Is it possible, 108. 

It burneth yet, alas, my heart's desire, 182. 

It is a gi'ievous smart, 105. 

It was my choice, it was no chance, 117. 

It may be good, like it who list, 36. 

Leave thus to slander love, 93. 

Like as the bird within the cage inclosed, 54. 

Like as the swan towards her death, 89. 

Like as the wind with raging blast, 186. 

Like as the pilgrim, that in a long way, 218. 

Like unto these unmeasurable mountains, 14. 

Lo ! how I seek and sue to have, 122. 

Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry pass, 223. 

Lo ! what it is to love, 92. 

Love doth again, 143. ^ 

Love, Fortune, and my mind which do remember, 13. 

Love, to give law unto his subjects' hearts, 203. 

Lux, my fair falcon, and thy fellows all, 177. 

Madam, withouten many words, 180. 

Marvel no more although, 38. 

Me list no more to sing, 131. 

Mine old dear enemy, my froward master, 152. 

Mne own John Poins, since ye delight to know, 191. 

Mstrustful minds be moved, 184. 

Most wretched heart ! most miserable, 96. 

My galley charged with forgetfulness, 9. 

My heart I gave thee, not to do it pain, 15. 

My hope, alas ! hath me abused, 67. 

My love to scorn, my service to retain, 11. 

My love is like unto th' eternal fire, 123. 

My lute, awake, perform the last, 29. 

My mother's maids, when they do sew and spin, 187. 

16 



242 INDEX OF FIKST LINES. 

My pen ! take pain a little space, 100. 
Nature, that gave the bee so feat a grace, 175. 
Now must I learn to live at rest, 124. 
Now all of change, 145. 

Of Carthage he that worthy warrior, 175. 

Of deep secrets, that David there did sing, 222. 

Of few words, Sir, you seem to be, 181. 

Of purpose Love chose first for to be blind, 168. 

goodly hand, 62. 

Oh ! happy are they that have forgiveness got, 211. 

Lord ! since in my mouth thy mighty name, 206. 

Lord ! as I have thee both pray'd and pray, 215. 

! miserable sorrow, withouten cure, 127. 

Once, as methought, fortune me kiss'd, 30. 

Pass forth, my wonted cries, 40. 

Patience for my device, 83. 

Patience ! though I have not, 84. 

Patience of all my smart, 85. 

Patience ! for I have wrong, 148. 

Perdie I said it not, 48. 

Process of time -worketh such wonder, 87. 

Resound my voice, ye woods, that hear me plain, 33. 

Right true it is, and said full yore ago, 172. 

Rue on me, Lord, for thy goodness and grace, 219. 

She sat, and sewed, that hath done me the wrong, 173. 

Sighs are my food, my drink are my tears, 176. 

Since love is such as that ye wot, 121. 

Since love will needs that I shall love, 51. 

Since so ye please to hear me plain, 124. 

Since you will needs that I shall sing, 130. 

Since ye delight to know, 73. 

So feeble is the thread, that doth the burden stay, 157. 

Some fowls there be that have so perfect sight, 7. 

Sometime I sigh, sometime I sing, 115. 

Sometime I fled the fire, that me so brent, 174. 

Speak thou and speed where will or power ought helpeth, 185. 

Spite hath no power to make me sad, 138. 



INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 243 

Stand, whoso list, upon the slipper wheel, 178. 

Such is the course that nature's kind hath wrought, 11. 

Such hap as I am happed in, 74. 

Such vain thought as wonted to mislead me, 3. 

Sufficed hot. Madam, that you did tear, 182. 

Tagus, farewell, that westward with thy streams, 176. 

Take heed by time, lest ye be spied, 101. 

Tangled I was in Love's snare, 141. 

That time that mirth did steer my ship, 112. 

The answer that ye made to me, my dear, 46. 

The enemy of life, decayer of all kind, 172. 

The furious gun in his most raging ire, 174. 

The flaming sighs that boil within my breast, 16. 

The fruit of all the service that I serve, 127. 

The heart and service to you proffer' d, 106. 

The joy so short, alas ! the pain so near, 133. 

The knot which first my heart did strain, 116. 

The lively sparks that issue from those eyes, 3. 

The long love that in my thought I harbour, 1. 

The pillar perish' d is whereto I leant, 17. 

There was never nothing more me pained, 58. 

The restfal place, renewer of my smart, 32. 

The wand'ring gadling in the summer tide, 171. 

They flee from me, that sometime did me seek, 31. 

This song ended, David did stint his voice, 214. 

This word, Redeem, that in his mouth did sound, 229. 

Tho' I cannot your cruelty constrain, 86. 

Thou hast no faith of him that hath none, 28. 

Though I myself be bridled of my mind, 20. 

Though this the port, and I thy servant true, 61. 

Throughout the world if it were sought, 179. 

Thus lieth the dead, that whilome Uved here, 238. 

To cause accord, or to agree, 81. 

To rail or jest, ye know I use it not, 21. 

To seek each where where man doth live, 57. 

To wish, and want, and not obtain, 76. 

To wet yocir eye withouten tear, 103. 



244 INDEX OF FIRST LINES. 

Unstable dream, according to the place, 4. 
Under this stone there lieth at rest, 237. 
Unwarily so was never no man caught, 47. 

Venomous thorns that are so sharp and keen, 177. 
Vulcan begat me, Minerva me taught, 169. 

Was never file yet half so well y^ed, 2. 

What death is worse than this, 82. 

What needs these threatening words and wasted wind, 171. 

What no, perdie ! ye may be sure, 26. 

What meaneth this ! when I lie alone, 107. 

What rage is this ? what furor ? of what kind, 62. 

What vaileth truth, or by it to take pain, 22. 

What man heard such cruelty before, 173. 

What should I say, 136. 

What word is that, that change th not, 184. 

When David had perceived in his breast, 227. 

When Dido feasted the wandering Troian knight, 163. 

When first mine eyes did view and mark, 50. 

Where shall I have at mine own will, 34. 

Whoso hath seen the sick in his fever, 210. 

Will ye see what wonders Love hath wrought, 148. 

Whoso list to hunt? I know where is an hind, 18. 

Within my breast I never thought it gain, 181. 

Ye know my heart, my Lady dear, 128. 
Ye old mule ! that think yourself so fair, 25. 
Ye that in love find luck and sweet abundance, 5. 
Yet was I never of your love aggrieved, 1. 
Your looks so often cast, 41. 



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